#the only way to avoid it is to be aware and critical | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

humanjarvis · 3 months ago

Text

bloodlust

synopsis: you’ve never known real power. sylus lets you taste it.

tags: nsfw & dark (mdni), sylus gravely injures people who upset you, you like it and fuck him in front of their writhing bodies, he then wipes them from existence with his evol, love confessions, avoidant reader is back, reader thinks they're weak, reader exalts sylus, reader needs therapy, size difference, fingering, vaginal sex, kinda? implied to be their first time but u can decide for urself bc what a first time this would be, blood, violence (obviously), sylus is still nice but definitely leaning into the legendary criminal persona, he’s also obsessed with you, i think that’s it?? pairing: sylus x reader word count: 2.7k

a/n: try psychoanalyzing THIS

You’d always known you were a vengeful person.

From the day you’d started hating your babysitter for insulting your favorite toy, to the time you’d tried to explode your leech of a landlord with your mind every month, you’d been well aware: you did not take kindly to being wronged.

You had no true power of your own, no—timid and unimposing, you’d been forced to restrict your retaliation to the hypothetical, the mental. Death wishes, prayers for misfortune, and fantasies of karma were your safe haven—the space in your mind where no one could reach you with insult or ridicule, where the judgment of others was your sole prerogative.

For years, you’d lived this way, worked this way. Discredited and discarded, excluded and exploited, you’d sought comfort in your capacity to think, to imagine. To imagine retribution for those who would never be dealt it—at least, not from your inconsequential hand.

But this time, your mere imagination would not be enough.

For the last month, a clique of obnoxious coworkers had been harassing you nonstop, stewing in jealousy after your recent promotion. Day after day, they’d tried to break your spirit, and day after day, they inched closer to success. The thinly veiled barbs, harsh criticisms, and shameless attempts to steal your work were eating away at you, no matter how vividly you imagined retaliating in the safety of your mind, dissolving each perpetrator to dust for their needless hostility.

The dam broke the day they’d found your weak spot, launching a full-on attack on you. Not your skill, not your work, but the unchangeable traits that already kept you awake at night, wishing you could be something greater. Your shyness, your weakness, your simple approach to the world—everything that made you who you were, they’d picked apart.

You don’t recall how you’d gotten home that day—only the wings of a crow fluttering above you as you floated down the familiar streets on autopilot. You’d stepped through the door withdrawn nearly into catatonia, recoiling from sounds and flinching from touches.

Sylus hadn’t liked that.

After years of lonely independence—not what you’d chosen but all you could handle—you’re still adjusting to relying on someone else to preserve your honor. Especially when that person has everything you lack: an imposing form, an authoritative voice, effortless assurance, and unrivaled strength.

Sylus can make your hypotheticals—your unfulfilling, pathetic hypotheticals—into reality. Without lifting a finger, without breaking a sweat.

So when you return to his home in a shell of dejection, drained of the life you’d graciously breathed into his, that’s precisely what he plans to do.

Someone had upset you—terribly so. The moment he’d claimed you, held your trembling, uncertain form in his, he’d set a very high price for that.

In the back room of Onychinus’s main warehouse, your body tremors in anticipation. Tonight, your defenses are more than psychological. Tonight, for the first time, you’ll know the intoxicating security of capability.

As you wait for Sylus’s cue, your mind wanders to the aftermath of that day. Once you’d come back to him, looked into his eyes with something more than blankness, he’d approached you. Gathering you into his arms, he’d asked what’d happened—who’d happened—pressing sweet kisses to your temple and lips whenever your voice would break.

He’d holed up in his office after he’d seen you to bed, compiling all the information he could find—a lot, with his resources—on the three men who’d tormented you. Their names, addresses, roles in the company, aspirations—anything that’d be useful in luring them to his turf.

And now, he’s asked you to stay out of sight and wait for his signal as he lulls his suspects with the false promise of a good deal.

Just as you feel the familiar impulse to flee threaten your resolve, a too-realistic caw and the steady flaps of metal wings snap you out of your thoughts. As the omnipresent crow lands on your shoulder, nuzzling your cheek in programmed affection, you walk slowly to the heavy door, steeling yourself before sliding it open.

In the dim light of the square room, you feel his presence before you see him, his cool authority drawing you to him like a magnet. You come to a soft stop behind his chair, draping one arm over his shoulders, the other on his chest, as he introduces you as his partner. And with a tense, shuddering breath, you tighten your grip on him as you raise your eyes to meet the men who’d nearly broken you.

Apparently, though, your true reunion has been put on hold, as their careless eyes are busy ogling your body in proprietary glee.

When Sylus clears his throat, they seem to remember where they are and who they’re with, and three pairs of eyes finally deign to meet yours. Almost immediately, those eyes flicker in recognition, the faces of their owners blanching with nerves.

And that reaction is the smoking gun—the only evidence Sylus needs to enact their damnation.

In an instant, crimson ropes with black undertones snake around the men’s immobilized bodies, suspending them in midair before inching up to muffle the groans that catch in their rigid throats.

Rising from his seat, Sylus bends to kiss your forehead before blocking your view with his back. “Don’t peek, sweetie,” he hums as he extends one large hand, dancing his index finger in a line of X’s. As he moves, hundreds of tiny, twisting cuts appear around each man’s neck, their countless wounds dripping with thin streams of blood.

Completing his design, he clenches his fist, and the ropes tighten to drain their prey at a much greater volume.

A few seconds later and he drops his hand, the men’s half-emptied, half-alive bodies hitting the floor in one simultaneous thud.

From behind the broad panes of Sylus’s back, you're not supposed to see his carnage, the way his victims can’t even beg him for mercy with the blood clogging their windpipes.

But with your hands on his narrow waist, supporting you as you peek around him in disobedience, the image of what he’s done for you and its surprisingly comfortable weight settle on your now relaxed shoulders.

It’s not the mess on the floor, but the principle of his actions—the urgency with which he moved to avenge his own.

You want to thank him. You want to worship him.

Oblivious to the desire thrumming in your heart, Sylus finally turns around, ready to usher you out of the room. When he reaches for you, though, you intercept his arm, panting softly up at him with wide eyes.

Mistaking your expression as terror, he moves to step back, but you shake your head vehemently and tug him toward you, your feet firmly rooted in place on the tiled black floor.

Wordlessly, you paw frantically at his shirt and belt—anything that can come off—with your usually nimble fingers trembling and clumsy from the rush of energy in your veins.

As you manage to undo the first button of his shirt, realization dawns on his face, lightening his stormy garnet eyes in a mix of shock and relief.

“You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” he breathes, his large hand covering yours on his buttons and freezing your advances momentarily.

With an impatient huff, you look up at him and open your mouth in protest, but he speaks before you can.

“For a moment, I thought I'd made you fear me again,” he admits with a shaky chuckle. “Evidently I was wrong, and although I'm glad to know that…are you sure you want to do this here, sweetie?” he checks, peering down at you with a searching gaze.

Finding your voice, you use his loosened shirt to pull him down to your height, caressing his chiseled jaw in your hand. “I want you to take me. Here, in front of all of them. I want them to watch the man who’ll take their lives take my heart in his hands. Will you do that for me?”

He’ll do anything for you.

And so, softly maneuvering your body, Sylus repositions you to stand in front of him and angles your gaze to the reflective steel ceiling, not allowing the filth on the floor to enter your line of sight. He supposes they can look at you—it won’t matter for much longer, anyway—but he refuses to let you look at them any longer, to let your intimacy be tainted by the memories of what they’d done.

Slowly, he trails his unoccupied hand down to grope your full breasts, humming in approval when he feels your pebbling nipples. Pinching your right peak softly, he murmurs into your left ear, surrounding you on all sides. “You like what I’ve done, I presume? Are you pleased with me?”

Moaning softly, you arch back into him, pushing your chest further into his welcoming hand. Tilting your head back as far as his iron grip allows, you turn your face to brush his cheek as his fingers continue working your aching nipple. “It’s not what you’ve done to them,” you breathe against him, “it’s what you’ve done for me.”

With another moan, you rock your hips back between his legs, feeling the sizable bulge that grows harder with each reaction you give him.

With the strength in his one free hand, the other still aiming your gaze toward the ceiling, he tears the front of your flimsy dress open, your breasts spilling out in smooth bounces.

Sylus groans deeply at the visual, his palm coming up to grope and knead your tender flesh between his calloused fingers.

“Tell me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the pulse in your neck. “How should I take you, hmm? Hard and fast, so they know I pace you, or slow and deep, so my love is clear?”

Leaving your breast with a last tug at your nipple, he lowers his hand to dip his fingers under the hem of your exposed panties, gliding between your glistening folds. Extending two long digits, he slips them into your fluttering entrance, sliding in and out with ease from the intensity of your arousal.

As he pumps his fingers inside you, your walls clenching around him in search of something larger, you’re barely able to formulate a response. Luckily, your answer is simple.

“Everything,” you moan to him. “Everything you can give me—I want it all.”

With a rumbling groan, Sylus gives you a final deep thrust with his fingers, dragging them inside your walls to collect all of your essence. Pulling them out of you with a wet pop, he swiftly sticks them in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits as he savors your taste. Standing up on your toes, you push your mouth to his, slipping your tongue past his lips to steal what’s left of your flavor. A string of saliva connects you as you part, only snapping when Sylus shifts to free the heavy bulge from his straining slacks.

Mewling, you try to push your hips back, desperately searching for whatever friction you can find. But with a light tap to your hip, he holds you in place, thwarting your attempt to bring him closer. “Be patient for me, won’t you?” he asks. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long—surely you’ll let me lead?”

And although you’ve vowed against letting anyone lead you, letting anyone take charge of you lest you get burned, you remember the power he’d gifted you only an hour ago, the writhing bodies still littering the floor behind you. His grand display of care, devotion, and understanding. Without a second thought, you find yourself nodding frantically in his embrace, his hand on your jaw briefly loosening with the force.

With a soft, unnecessary apology, you still, allowing yourself to fall pliant in his hands. Against your ear, you feel his lips curl into a smile.

“Eyes up,” he whispers as he sinks into you.

The intrusion is slow, and thanks to the wetness leaking out of you, you suction in his oversized length with only a slight discomfort. With a gentle push, he fully seats himself inside you, and you both release a breathy moan—yours at the wholeness, his at the tightness.

After one sublime moment, your bodies almost merged with your closeness, he pulls out slowly, leaving just the head of his shaft inside you before surging forward in an all-encompassing thrust. Mouth falling open, you unconsciously tilt your hips back to meet him, and he growls his approval.

“I’ll give you everything,” he rumbles with another deep thrust. “Everything you want, everyone you want it done to—that’s my promise to you,” he vows, biting your ear. “Not a single being will harm you without paying the price—the price they pay as they look up at us with their last glances, wishing with all they have left to be in my place instead.”

As he speaks, he quickens his measured strokes into powerful snaps of his hips—pacing you, just as he’d said. His promise and his movements are all too much, and you feel a sweet ache start to spread within your lower belly.

Trying and failing to match his bruising thrusts, you babble out your admiration, the words that have circled your brain since he’d first told you his plans.

“Thank you,” you pant, drawing in shuddering breaths. “I-I know I shut down on you sometimes, but I’m not used to having someone to care for me—having someone who can. I’ve only ever protected myself, a-and only ever in my head. I’m not strong enough, or assertive enough, to do anything you do for me and I love you so much for it—love you so much that I’m jealous of you, and it only makes me love you more,” you finish with a whimper.

At your confession, Sylus grips your hip in his hand and fucks into you with renewed fervor, jostling every part of your body but your head, still securely angled toward the sky. The pounding starts a quake in your legs, and you slump into his strong chest, entrusting yourself to him as he pushes you both over the edge. With a few more sharp thrusts and a stinging bite on your neck, he spills into you in thick, hot spurts, and the sensation has you gushing around him. With an unrestrained cry, you dig your nails into his arm, and he presses impossibly closer to you.

“However much you think you love me, know that it hardly compares to the obsession I feel towards you.”

As you’re lost in the pleasure of your joint release, murky red and black wisps coil around the figures twitching on the floor, enshrouding them in an eerie haze. With near inaudible crackles, they erode the forgotten flesh of their targets, twisting and curling, bending and snapping, until the floor is cleared of sin.

Sylus, who’d captured your attention with a devoted kiss in the comedown of your orgasm, slowly releases you once his work is done. Breathless, you hover near his mouth, eager to ask for more, when you notice his firm grip has left your jaw—you’re free to look as you please.

With his length still inside you, pulsing softly and coated with your combined essence, you twist in his arms, expecting the lifeless shapes on the floor to sully the peace of the moment, to resurface the desolation in you that'd led to their demise.

But as you peer down at the shiny black tiles, you see nothing but yourselves—a smaller figure entwined in the consuming embrace of a much larger one.

“How do you feel?” a deep voice purrs into your ear. Craning your neck to look at its pleased owner, you sensually press yourself back, burying his already hardening length deeper into its nest. With a soft smile, you claim his lips in an unhurried kiss, tender and reverent and lewd.

When you pull away, he splays a possessive hand over your abdomen. He rests his chin atop your head as he resumes his pumps in and out of you, gradually quickening his controlled movements.

Fluttering your eyes closed, you breathe in with contentment. The air around you has grown a little lighter with the deletion of those who’d dared to waste it.

1K notes · View notes

hexhomos · 7 months ago

Text

The jayce mel breakup scene was a long time coming and jayce was right (IMO)

What if i told you this entire conversation was not just about their situation but something else. What if told you this is all double-speak criticizing mel's type of self-lucrative governance where only the shiny pearls are elevated from the muck? Where only the prodigies are worth saving?

Why would you save just me? why wouldn't you want to save everyone? This is about the city. This is about her long comfortable reign and how she argues in S1 that Jayce needs to make concessions for corrupt politics, that he needs to mold himself in their image.

You focused on me because I could make you money (that you already HAD) while countless lay dead every day as a consequence of your lack of awareness, your aspirations of empire-metagaming. The richest woman in the city aiming to make herself richer; an impulse she inherited from her family that she reproduced as law. Ten years of this and she's just now waking up. SUCKS!

He's still an investment. He's still base value. This is him after seeing the heat-death of all that exists and realizing all the layers of compliance.

The actual physical pain cutting through. How Jayce starts to glitch out the closer she gets trying to explain how she simply couldn't see all that damage coming as a result of her billionaire machinations & he's once again assaulted by images of THE TOTAL APOCALYPSE that is to come if they just continue to play nice/do nothing to address the present. The way this is also Jayce speaking on Viktor's behalf, positing both of them as an unit when he had no voice against Mel before as a zaunite (see again the bomb scene in s1, Viktor's POV disregarded as Mel focuses on pushing Jayce towards power, the same way Ambessa was preparing Caitlyn to take over, the same patterns.)

Jayce shouldn't even have apologized for this shit he was right but this show hates to talk politics, all of the finale was avoiding the point. This was the bare minimum and ppl still got mad at him for saying it!

#arcane #arcane spoilers #jayce talis #jayce arcane #meta tag #viktor arcane #mel arcane #mel medarda #jayvik #vikjayce #league of legends #jayce league of legends #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #jayce lol #hexposts

2K notes · View notes

internetdaddy98 · 2 months ago

Text

The Ties That Bind Us - Chapter 1

[Series Masterlist]

Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!DocReader

Synopsis: Reader meets Dr.Robby during his panic attack.

Word Count: 906

Content Warning: Age gap; reader in her 30’s;mass shooting; death; blood; gunshot injuries; angst; grief; medical procedures; I don't know have any medical knowledge 🥹; PTSD; panic attack;if I've missed any warnings, please let me know.

A/N: I have been thinking about Dr.Robby for the past 15 weeks and needed to let it all out

First time putting my crazy thoughts on tumblr! Eeeek

You had started your shift earlier than usual that evening. Dr. Abbott had called you, letting you know it was going to be all hands on deck with the Pittfest shooting.

Despite being new to the hospital, you appreciated that Dr. Abbot had called, and so you rushed to get ready and headed out to make it to the Emergency Department as soon as humanly possible, battling chaos and traffic due to hell breaking loose. When you got there, Dr. Shen had quickly briefed you as you looked on to all the trauma victims coming through without an indication of it slowing down anytime soon.That is how you spent your first two hours, drilling IO’s and making sure the rest of the patients weren’t bleeding out while working with the limited resources the hospital had available.

You’d only been there a month. Wanting to pursue emergency medicine, you had accepted a fellowship position at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital in Emergency critical care, packed up your life in New York and made the move to Pittsburgh.Although you were new, everyone was welcoming and eager to help amid the chaos that night shift could be. You hadn’t had the chance to meet everyone yet, so as you glanced around the Emergency Department, you were met by the faces of doctors, nurses and admin staff who weren’t known to you.While the victims did not stop coming, you found yourself moving on instinct in the Yellow zone. Assessing, treating, and trying to do your best to learn when there was a particularly bad patient. Time moved by in a blur, but your mind was painfully aware of every patient that you had treated, all the blood, all the pain, all the tragedy.

—————————————————————————

“I’ll go get you a blanket,” You smiled reassuringly to your patient as you made your way to the Pedes room.

You had heard Dana and Abbott and a few others had been looking for Dr. Robby, whom you hadn’t met yet but knew sooner or later would meet tonight.Ellis walked towards you as she headed to the yellow zone. She looked tired but so did you all at this point.

“Hey, if you're heading back to Red, can you try and find Dr. Robby? Abbott’s looking for him,” she said, not slowing her pace.

“I don’t know what he looks like,” You called after her, puzzled.

“Tall, moody, and sad eyes,” she threw over her shoulder without turning. Leaving you with more questions.

——————————————————————————-

You gave the security guard a small smile when you walked into Pedes, sighing at the room and what it had become - you hadn’t noticed yet that aside from the deceased patients, there was someone on the floor in tears.You stood there for a second, frozen and unsure of what to do. Slowly, you chose to close the curtain behind you, giving him a small amount of privacy, making sure the view into the outside hall was blocked.

You moved slowly to avoid startling the man in front of you, he sat against the wall with arms wrapped around his knees, gripping a necklace and reciting a prayer that sounded familiar to your ears.The Shema. You'd heard it during morning services in your teenage years and well into adulthood.You crouched down slowly and knelt in front of him, you didn’t make any moves to touch him, and began softly praying along.His breath caught in his throat, but his sobs and prayers continued. He lifted his gaze as you met his red rimmed eyes with a sympathetic smile, his face scrunched with confusion, you could tell he had been crying for a while.You found yourself at a loss on what to say - you hadn’t met him before, so you weren't sure how to help. she noticed his badge then, poking through the bloodied scrub. “Michael Robinavitch, MD”

Dr. Robby.Realisation hits you then that you had found him in what some would say his most vulnerable state.“I don’t know much of what you’re going through right now at this moment,” you began quietly. “But I do know that today has been brutal, and I know that I’m probably the last face you would want to see since you don’t know me and I don’t know you. But know that all I see is that you have done your best tonight, and although it feels like a losing battle, you’re still here. So if you need this time to process, then that’s okay - we all deserve a moment of peace”You slowly stood offering him your hand. He took it, and you helped steady him as he stood. You locked eyes again, and you smiled as you turned to head to the shelf and grab a blanket. You turned around with a blanket in hand, “I’ll see you out there,” offering one last warm smile as you disappeared behind the curtains. Once you closed the door, you let out a long exhale and made your way back to your patient.

After apologising to your patient for taking so long, you noticed Ellis was looking at you with a worried look.“You good, Williams?” she asked

“Yeah, I’m okay - just tired, that’s all”, you said quietly, brushing it off.

“Did you end up finding Dr. Robby?” Your movements stopped for a split second before you forced a small apologetic smile and shook your head.“I couldn’t find him. Sorry”

—————-

Apologies in advance

#michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #the pitt #the pitt hbo #the pitt imagine #the pitt fanfiction #dr robby #dr robby x reader #dr robinavitch x reader #dr robby imagine #dr michael robinavitch #dr robinavitch #noah wyle

436 notes · View notes

seleneprince · 3 months ago

Text

Snippet of my Neglected! Family x Yandere! Batfam au (I really need to find a name for this au already)

Wife! Darling has known of the Batcave's existence for years already, and so do her children.

She found out by pure accident. Her oldest daughter was doing her usual computer stuff she didn't understand, and said she found a weird signal coming from under the manor, in the underground...only they didn't know there was anything down there, not even a basement. Alfred never mentioned it.

The girl went to check, tracing the mysterious signal with her phone, and found a hidden compartment behind the pendulum clock. Before her mother could tell her to stop, she went down there.

Cue to Wife! Darling following her daughter to make sure she didn't get in trouble or hurt herself, because who knew if Batman even bothered with basic security measures for his vigilante stuff. From what she's seen of him as Bruce Wayne, she doubted it.

And that's how they found the Batcave. By the time Alfred found out and met them there, the daughter had already tinkered with half the equipment and replicated part of the Batcomputer's code in her tablet for fun, while her mother explored the whole place with a critical eye. Alfred expected them to be angry, to ask a lot of questions, but instead:

Wife! Darling!: "Who takes care of this place?"

Alfred: "Mostly me, Mistress (Name)."

Wife! Darling squinted her eyes, gaze darkening: "Just you? Does no one help you?"

Alfred: "It's part of my job, Mistress (Name). Don't worry, I can handle it perfectly well on my own."

She scoffed. "Well, this has to change. You're just one man, Alfred, and you're not getting younger with the years. The fact that they let you do so much already by yourself is infuriating, and you also have to clean after their crime-fighting bullshit? The nerve. I'll take care of this from now on"

Alfred blinked: "Mistress (Name), I can't possibly ask you that. You already help me more than enough around the house-"

Wife! Darling: "Nonsense, Alfred. You do way too much already. At this rate, it'll only affect your health for worse. I live here too now, so technically it's also my responsibility."

And that's how she ends up handling the maintenance of the Batcave along with Alfred, even taking over his tasks entirely. She starts off with the excuse of helping him, which it's true, but eventually she always takes care everything so the man has no option but rest.

And because she's such a perfectionist, she doesn't spare any efforts in the task. Cleans all the surfaces, fixes the suits, rearranges the weapons after cleaning them and creates a system to organize their gadgets so they're much easier to find. Even the Batmobile is left spotless, inside and outside. She goes as far to feed some of the bats casually roaming around the edges of the cave.

(And if her kids had naps inside the batmobile sometimes when they were down there, only she and Alfred are witnesses. Well, the bats too, but they're not snitching)

This way she takes some work off Alfred's shoulders. She finds it enraging that a man his age has such a heavy load of work with little to no help, so she takes over some of the house chores for him so he can have breaks. Plus, it helps her unwind and relax a bit from her usually stress-fuelled life.

She also begins to leave snarky notes about the shameful state of their gear when she finds it in particularly bad shape. And feels even worse that Alfred has had to take care of all of this at his age until she came.

"This blade is duller than your sense of self-awareness. Fix it"

"Blood is not a fashion statement. Grow up"

"If you die in this crusty suit, I’m not cleaning your corpse"

"Are you fighting villains or rolling in garbage?"

Seriously, the richest man in Gotham can't even afford a bit more of staff? But of course, she reminds herself he's the same man who forgot to use protection when fucking a random woman, so she shouldn't expect too much from him.

To avoid uncomfortable encounters, she specifically schedules her cleaning times for when the whole team is out, so she can work peacefully without being having to be in the same room as them. So far, it goes well. Alfred even warns her when they're coming back, and the Batcave is actually a pretty nice place to enjoy time for yourself when it's empty. Just the beeping of the computers as background noise, or her children messing around when they go down there to do their things.

It becomes part of her routine, one she even looks forward too during the day. Until one day.

The Batcave has been left spotless, as usual. Weapons polished. Suits lined up by height and damage level. Even the Batmobile has that new-car shimmer. It smells faintly of citrus-scented cleaning spray and frustration. There are also four sticky notes scattered across the table already, complaining about the state of their things again.

She is crouched near the weapon rack, holding the Batman suit with one gloved hand and a lint roller in the other, glaring at it like it personally offended her.

She mutters under her breath in Spanish, something about how "ni siquiera una máquina de coser podría salvar este desastre de traje, Dios mío." (Not even a sewing machine could save this disaster of a suit, my godness)

She’s in sweats, hair tied back in a messy bun. An apron over her tank top that says "KISS THE COOK (or don’t, I’ll stab you)". She's so deep in the cleaning zone she doesn’t hear the footsteps.

"Well, this is a surprise. I could get used to this."

Her entire body freezes. It feels like her blood turned ice in her veins instantly with the voice. That irritating, familiar voice.

Her head turns slowly, and there he is. Bruce Wayne in the flesh. Her husband in paper, father of her first child, owner of this cave, and responsible for half of the stress she deals with.

She could be annoyed or even embarrassed that he caught her like this, handling his suit no less. But instead, her mind is focused on what he said, and the tone in which he said it.

She arches a brow at him.

"Excuse me?"

He steps closer, clearly taking note of her work there. His eyes drifting to the Batmobile, the weapons, all she's taken care of already.

Bruce: "Me, coming back from work to find you cleaning my stuff. It’s so… domestic. It’s almost like we’re a married couple."

There’s a beat. A dangerous silence.

She blinks at him. Once. Twice. Processing the fact that he really said that. Out loud. To her. And in a completely serious tone.

Then he looks at her, and she notices the ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Oh, that filthy little-

Her eye twitches.

Wife! Darling: "...........Oh, absolutely."

WHACK.

She chucks a batarang at his head with a speed and accuracy that would’ve made Deadshot whistle. He barely ducks, and it slams into the metal behind him with a THUNK so loud the Batcomputer flinches and some bats burst out from their spots.

Bruce: "That could’ve taken my eye out."

Wife! Darling:"I was hoping so."

He stares at her, and then shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle. A chuckle. Since when is this man capable of that? Before she gets her answer, he pulls out the batarang with ease and places it back on the rack (Good, she would've murdered him for real if he left it anywhere else).

Bruce: "I meant it. I think I like this sight of you. Suits you well. You look like the ideal housewife."

Without looking, she reaches for another batarang and throws it at him. This time, he catches it mid-air, cool as ever, before setting it down on the table like he isn’t one second away from getting stabbed.

Bruce: "Was that really necessary?"

Wife! Darling: "It was either that or shoot you. You're lucky I'm generous today."

He watches her, barely concealing his amusement now, but there’s something else in his expression too, something he's never had when looking at her: Curiosity.

She doesn't like it.

Unbothered, as if he didn't just activate her kill switch, he starts to walk to the table and peels off one of the sticky notes, reading it aloud with a deadpan tone.

"Blood is not a fashion statement. Grow up."

Bruce: "You know I beat the shit out of people in this suit, right?"

She replies without sparing him a glance, wiping down a grappling gun with unholy aggression: "Yeah? Well, do it without staining it with their blood. You look like Gotham’s dirtiest raccoon."

He leans against the Batcomputer, arms folded. "How long have you been doing this, exactly?"

She scoffs, going back to adjusting the suit like she isn’t being interrogated. "Long enough to know that you leave your weapons in a shameful state. Honestly, it’s a miracle your stupid gadgets still function. Do you ever bother to maintain your own things, or do you just throw them around and hope Alfred fixes it?"

He watches her for a moment longer before finally speaking.

"And you’re doing this because...?"

"Because unlike some people in this godforsaken house, I actually care when an old man is running himself ragged taking care of things that none of you seem to appreciate."

Bruce pauses. He glances at the Batmobile, cleaner than it’s ever been. At his weapons, neatly arranged, polished, functional.

At the post-it notes stuck to the Batcomputer, scrawled in Rosa’s angry handwriting.

He actually huffs a quiet laugh. Again. It's unsettling her.

Then, almost as an afterthought, she mutters, "Besides, if you die because your equipment fails, it’s only a matter of time before you try to drag me into this circus. And I refuse to wear spandex."

He raises an eyebrow. "You’d look good in spandex."

Silence.

She throws the batarang at him again. This time, it actually clips his shoulder.

"Go get that treated before you stain anything, or I'll wipe the floors next with your face."

.......................

...........

Suddenly, Bruce starts to "casually" come to the cave early more often.

Now she has to adjust her schedule AGAIN to avoid him. And in the meantime, her children start betting on how many batarangs it takes before Bruce gets critically injured. Or dead.

#holy shit #this was supposed to be so much shorter #just a snippet #it got out of hand #wow #i'm impressed with myself #and dissapointed at the same time #anyway here you go #wife! darling and bruce having their most pacific interaction to the date #before the plot starts #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #wife darling au #neglected wife au #dc x reader

414 notes · View notes

literaryvein-reblogs · 5 months ago

Text

Writing a "Toxic" Character

Toxic Behavior - any kind of behavior that results in unpleasantness for those around you.

This can range from accidentally telling a joke that hurts someone’s feelings to alienating close friends and family through consistently negative and cruel behavior.

In other words, toxic behavior is whatever someone does to bring negativity upon themselves and others.

Everyone can be difficult on occasion, but you want to avoid allowing occasional, accidental toxic behaviors to become a long-term feature of your personality.

It’s one thing to make a selfish decision and meaningfully apologize afterward, but it’s another when it becomes a defining trait.

Even the most toxic people can improve their behavior patterns, so long as they make an earnest effort to understand themselves and become more compassionate.

Even though it might take a lot of self-compassion, patience from friends and family, and a resolute commitment to becoming kinder, it’s well worth it for everyone in the long run.

Prominent Toxic Behavior Traits

Toxicity manifests in numerous ways. If you’re worried you might be consistently exhibiting toxic traits, ask yourself if someone would describe you as having any one of these 5 qualities:

Critical: When people behave in a toxic way, they often blame others for all their problems. Rather than accepting any responsibility for their unhappiness or aggression, they convince themselves they behave this way solely because of the kind of people around them. Ask yourself if you’re quicker to criticize others than to self-reflect.

Manipulative: Controlling behavior, gaslighting, and other forms of manipulation are some of the key signs of a toxic person. Perhaps you try to passive-aggressively get coworkers to do your job for you or try to make family members feel guilty so they’ll do you favors. If you manipulate other people, knowingly or unknowingly, you’re exhibiting a key toxic trait.

Narcissistic: Certain toxic people only look out for themselves. As narcissists, they view their own lives as above anyone else’s. While everyone can veer into self-interest from time to time, this sort of constant self-involvement is a sure sign of toxicity. Think about the last time you put someone else’s needs above your own—if you have a hard time remembering when that was, it might be time for some further self-evaluation and improvement.

Negativity: Toxic people are often negative people. They feel the need to nitpick and criticize the minutiae of their lives, berating friend and foe alike for making things more difficult than they need to be. No one can feel happy all the time, and negativity can balance out positivity on occasion—but if you constantly dwell on things that make you sad or angry, you could be embodying toxic behavior.

Unapologetic: When toxic people lash out at their loved ones, they’re unlikely to ever apologize or see what they’ve done as wrong. This might be because their self-worth is bound up in thinking they must be right at all times and at all costs. Ask yourself whether you ever feel comfortable being wrong. If the answer is no, this might be a toxic trait worth improving.

Tips for How to Not Be Toxic

Devoting yourself to positivity rather than toxicity can prove a boon for both you and all your loved ones. Learn how to stop being toxic with these 7 steps:

Apologize when necessary. Everyone exhibits bad behavior from time to time. Apologize when you act out of line so you can get back to spending time creating positive memories with friends and family.

Assess yourself regularly. Toxic traits often emanate from low self-esteem and unaddressed trauma. Work on bettering your mental health and wellness. Journal out your thoughts to improve your sense of self-awareness.

Be open to feedback. Free and open communication is one key hallmark of healthy relationships. Listen more than you speak. Ask people what you can do so you both can have a good relationship with each other.

Deal with past trauma. There’s an old saying: “Hurt people hurt people.” In other words, people who’ve gone through hard times and are in a painful situation are likely to create hard times and painful situations for others. Seek out help to deal with these very real wounds. No one deserves to suffer, and the sooner you heal, the sooner you can help others heal, too.

Practice mindfulness. Very few people actively set out to be a toxic person, they just fall into toxic habits. Practicing mindfulness meditation gives you the tool kit to break up negative thought patterns and assess why you might behave in a toxic way.

Respect boundaries. Individual toxicity often leads to toxic relationships with others characterized by codependency. Respect people when they set boundaries with you, then pay attention to whether you’re crossing them.

Seek opportunities for compassion. Rather than looking for opportunities to criticize, seek out the ability to be compassionate. Give yourself grace as a form of self-care—remind yourself you’re not a bad person, just someone trying to get through the difficulties of life like anyone else. Forgive others who frustrate or wrong you. Focus on spreading a sense of well-being and you’ll be well on your way to ensuring each day is a positive rather than toxic one.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

#toxic #writing notes #writeblr #character development #writers on tumblr #writing reference #dark academia #spilled ink #writing prompt #creative writing #writing inspiration #literature #writing ideas #writing resources

407 notes · View notes

luvth0t · 1 year ago

Text

SLUT! ━ C.L

based off ‘slut!’ by taylor swift

in which you work in a man’s world, and loving your competitor is a lot more damning for you than charles.

warnings; smut, driver!reader, themes of sexism and misogyny and touches on inequality, angst, lotta tension tbh, she’s kinda long, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praise, degradation like once, public sex, jealousy and maybe a bad friend reader if u squint, haas suck, manifested monaco win for charles :p

lovelorn and nobody knows

love thorns all over this rose,

i’ll pay the price, you won’t

you’d overcome enough challenges in your life.

you’d constantly proven everyone wrong, do what those said you can’t ━ every step and move you made was met with criticism instead of praise. doubt instead of belief.

you found a way. you broke the records, created your own more so. first modern day female f1 driver, and you didn’t intend to be the last.

haas wasn’t where you wanted to be, and while most expected you to be happy with just having a seat; that’s not why you were here. you didn’t fall in love with the sport to just become a driver.

you wanted to win. podiums, wins, championships. like the other 19 drivers ━ you all wanted the same thing.

for some reason you were the only one who got laughed at when speaking on such wants.

but you got used to the laughter, to the unamused or unimpressed journalists ━ this was a man’s world.

that didn’t scare you as a 14 year old girl, and it wouldn’t scare you now.

all these challenges and obstacles that you overcame, all the doubt and hate you shook off; yet there was a certain something you just couldn’t shake.

certain someone more so.

it killed you inside that a man of all things could cause you so much grief, so much internal conflict.

for some reason when it came to charles, you just couldn’t resist. putting your career first, which you’d done all your life, suddenly became difficult.

you didn’t show it, you also weren’t too hard on yourself. it was unfair to be in this position in the first place. to have to be so aware of your relation to the driver, any other drivers of that matter, was a circumstance only you found yourself in.

friendships and banters amongst any other pairings on the grid was adored; snatched up by social media and cameras.

your friendships caused headlines and unwanted press apparently.

it was something you picked up on quickly, the obsession of romance and the assumption that you wanted to sleep with every damn man you raced alongside.

you laughed at it, spoke down on such thing; then didn’t give it any of your time.

until suddenly the rumours were true; charles leclerc had somehow weaselled his way past every barrier and wall you put up.

it wasn’t something you accepted quickly. and once you caught wind of your stupid little heart and it’s fondness of the monegasque you were quick to try put the friendship and it’s entirety six feet under.

this worked, for a few months.

charles had been confused ━ under the assumption you two were at the bare minimum friends. as good as friends as two drivers could get at least. then suddenly you avoided him as if he was carrying the plague.

he couldn’t question it however; it’d be pathetic. to ask you why you refused to meet his eyes in press conferences and drivers briefings anymore.

why you avoided whatever side of the drivers parade truck he was on. why you couldn’t spare him more than a ‘hello’ in passing these days.

he interacted less with other drivers, and didn’t question them. so he couldn’t question you.

las vegas however, was your downfall.

drinking was unavoidable ━ daniel had made you promise to go out with him the moment you congratulated him on his return; and if it hadn’t been him, you knew someone would’ve of.

with daniel, there was max. that was fine; you got on well with max.

then there were talks lando would make it out, despite having gone to hospital; you knew a couple other drivers would also be in the same club you were. an entry fee so high, everyone around you was oozing importance and wealth.

it shouldn’t have surprised you when suddenly charles appeared at an already drunk daniel’s side; loud laughter and murmurs of a prior vegas trip giving you enough time to down your drink in preparation to be in his presence.

you couldn’t run, not when stood in a group of four; silver slip dress doing little to allow you to blend in with the crowd around you.

you felt his gaze on you before your eyes met his, almost as if it was causing heat on your skin ━ demanding you to look at him.

his eyes had met yours with a slight twinkle, slightly hooded and telling you that he too had enough alcohol running in his veins; and the lazy smile he flashed you had your own lips curving upwards with little resistance.

it was embarassing the way your cheeks went a tint of pink as you watched him weave around daniel who was now speaking to max, too engrossed in a story to care about the way charles moved him out of the way, to stand next to you.

immediately you were aware of his hand finding the small of your back as your body became aware of the closeness of him, breath getting caught in your throat as he leant down towards your ear.

“you look incredible,” the compliment was genuine; the smile accompanying his words rendering you unable to find room to complain.

suddenly it was too hot in here. you’d like to blame the alcohol, or the stuffy club. but the man to your left was the only reason you suddenly craved fresh air.

“thank you,” you hummed, not creating distance between the pair of you despite the idea crossing your mind. he was too close, you should step away. but his cologne smelt incredible. and his hand was still lingering on your back lightly.

his smile only grew at your response, having expected you to wiggle away and disappear into the crowd.

the conversation was harmless, it always had been; but speaking with charles was just a reminder that he was one of the good ones.

he’d only ever been kind to you; kind to everyone. one of the first to speak with you like any other driver, speak about racing and your careers without undermining you.

the more time you spent with him the more clear it became that he was flawless. and oh so tempting.

maybe you would’ve ended the conversation when daniel gave you an out, interrupting the pair of you. but it was with shots on a tray next to him.

three shots later and the four of you were all cringing, scrambling to find chasers; charles offering you a lime that you quickly took ━ managing to squirt lime juice everywhere but your mouth.

it had the pair of you erupting into giggles, your hands quickly landing on his shirt which was now speckled in droplets.

“i’m so sorry!” you exasperated, only now becoming aware of the way you were struggling to stand up straight. using his chest to balance you momentarily.

he wasn’t doing any better, telling you it was fine through his own laughter; his hand lifting to your face ━ thumb brushing a few droplets off your cheek as he too swayed side to side.

your eyes met, both drunken and amused ━ and suddenly all rational thoughts had left your body.

��we need another.” you declared, hand grasping around his forearm; watching as his lips parted to disagree. but he couldn’t. a good time too tempting to resist right now.

max and daniel were long forgotten as you weaved through the crowd to the bar to sought after shots of your own; unable to identify the moment your hands had taken grasp of each other.

it was a fun two hours; innocent as well, flirtatious maybe but his hand didn’t stoop lower than your back ━ drinks consistently being poured; drivers, personnel, sponsors and fans rotating through. but you didn’t leave charles side.

you weren’t on edge either, not thinking about the what ifs. about tomorrow or the next week. just enjoying the moment.

time had gone incredibly quickly. you lost track of how many hours had been spent at the bar, how many drinks you’d downed.

charles too, until you were leaning further and further into his side. his intake stopped the moment he realised you were now struggling to stand straight.

the thought entered his mind to find a member of your team, haas or personal, to help you get you to your room soon.

he was drunk, there was no doubt about it. but he was attempting to sober up in your presence.

when you spilt a drink over the bar however, he took responsibility and declared your night was over.

it was a struggle, as his hands clasped around your arms and attempted to push you towards the exit ━ quickly realising he too was struggling to walk straight.

he’d managed however, getting you into the back of his drivers car not as easy with you dropping your phone. then him his wallet, resulting in drunken giggles and mumbles as you finally got buckled in and situated.

most of the car ride was filled with you rambling, charles more than happy to let you speak. he’d missed hearing from you ━ even if he could barely make sense and keep up with your story.

it wasn’t until you were stumbling in the hotel, through the underground entrance thankfully, and into the elevator that there was moments of silence.

you leaned back against the wall, watching as charles pressed the buttons. admiring more so, head titled aside as you gazed over the ferarri driver.

only then did you realise you shouldn’t be in this position. because all you wanted to do was get your hands on him. admire him up close, the distance of the elevator a rude difference to how the night had been spent.

your arms reached upwards, practically beckoning him over; and with an amused smile he easily fell into place ━ approaching you as his hand pressed against the wall beside your head, eyebrows raising upwards in curiosity as he peered down at you.

your arms wrapped around his neck naturally, neither of you phased from the new closeness and comfortability ━ your eyes flickering over his face, lingering on his lips for a few moments too long.

“i want to kiss you,” the words escaped your lips without any thought; it was as if a weight was lifted off your chest. some form of confession quite relieving.

charles hummed at your words, smirking even as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“yeah?” he teased ━ his breath fanning your face, and you nodded without any hesitation. it’s not what you wanted that had you not making any movements.

“mhm,” you sighed, head falling back; charles having not expected the huff of disappointment. you missed the way his eyebrows furrowed for a split second. if he was sober maybe he’d pick up on your internal conflict.

“kiss me then,” charles chimed, hand finding the side of your head; cupping your cheek so delicately you could only lean into the embrace.

never had you called on such will power and mental strength, fighting every instinct and nerve in your body that was practically yearning for him. begging you to put yourself out of your misery for once and rid the distance between the pair of you.

but you hadn’t come so far for nothing. you could only make so many drunken decisions.

“i can’t,” the words were painful to say, even the slight numbness that alcohol brought; you felt every sting of the sentence.

you watched the way his lips only curved upwards, he hadn’t picked up on the seriousness of your words.

“why not?” the question was teasing, his thumb caressing your cheek making it difficult to stick to your guns.

you looked at him as if he should know; because you’d hope he’d have some sort of idea. maybe if you could see straight you would’ve realised that charles reality wasn’t the same of yours.

“people will talk.” it sounded pathetic when you said it out loud, the sentence sobering you up enough to realise such thing. you weren’t one to usually care what people thought, so the way his smile faltered made sense.

charles took a few moments to process your words ━ he would’ve stepped away if it weren’t for your arms around him.

he wanted to point out that you two were in fact alone, but he knew what you meant. no secret was kept secret for long in the world of f1.

“let them.” charles attempted to dismiss, a cheesy smile to match, one that had you smiling as well. but it wasn’t the grin you’d been carrying all night. it was a sympathetic one almost.

charles was putting some pieces together now, as much as he could at least. your avoidance of him was making more sense with the words currently leaving your lips.

“wouldn’t fair well for me,” you mumbled; the disappointment clear in your tone. the annoyance at the fact there was clearly something stopping you. your mood was falling, charles noticed that easily.

and while he himself wasn’t overjoyed with how the night was concluding, he wouldn’t let it be ruined.

“it’s okay,” charles reassured quickly, his lips pressing to your forehead delicately instead ━ you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, he didn’t want you to feel as if you needed too. “let’s get you to bed.” he grinned.

the affectionate action caught you off guard, left speechless as his hand grasped yours and began to directing you out of the elevator. it only having you feeling regret and self pity for letting the moment escape your fingertips.

which only piled on you tenfold when he left your hotel room barely after making it two steps inside.

climbing into the sheets alone had never been so painful.

painful. a good word to describe the next few interactions with charles.

abu dhabi had you on edge. you didn’t know how to face him.

it was typical, finding yourself sat next to him in the drivers press conference. feeling as if every journalist in the room would take note of the exchanging glances, the way your eyes would quickly find something else if his met yours. the way you listened to him speak a little too intently.

charles however had no worries. not a thought in his mind as he shamelessly admired you, listening to every answer you gave. watching as you reacted to the words of other drivers or questions that weren’t to do with you. he couldn’t look away.

you’d avoided him all morning and yesterday; having not caught you after vegas.

charles was used to such behaviour, except now, he knew why. and your reasoning wasn’t good enough to him.

you two could be friends; it didn’t need to be one extreme or the other. so he had no shame in putting in effort to deter yours.

it was frustrating, almost as if every corner you turned he was there. all weekend, if you were not in the haas hospitality or your motor home, charles was near.

it was no coincidence, leaving the press pen at the same time; passing him after any interview, stuck next to him at the drivers briefing.

you couldn’t avoid the conversation, every moment with him was just pushing you further to the edge ━ your self control was hanging by a very thin thread and you were almost ready to cut it every time those damn green eyes linger on yours.

when you arrived at your hotel after qualifying, it was easy to spot him waiting in the lobby. an odd sight considering the lurking fans.

it made sense however, when charles beelined towards the elevator the moment you did.

you had to hold your breath as you both got inside, biting down on the inside of your cheek to not allow your own frustration bubble over.

“what are you doing?” the question was asked through gritted teeth, and the confusion that masked charles face did little to convince you he was as clueless as he looked.

the twinkle of amusement in his eye revealed enough.

“what do you mean?” the question was almost a challenge, charles peering down at you inquisitively - as if he didn’t know the answer himself.

you took a breath, shaking your head ever so slightly.

to put it simply, you were annoyed. at the world for putting you in this position, at yourself for getting to this point, and him for making it more difficult than it had to be.

“you’re stalking me.” you accused; eyes narrowing into a glare; one that intensified as his own lips curved upwards, and if you weren’t so focused on being annoyed you would’ve swooned over the dimples that lined his cheeks in doing so.

“i am not stalking you,” charles mused, laughing at the accusation as he leant against the wall behind him.

you expected more of an explanation ━ your own eyes trained ahead of you at the elevator doors that remained shut. looking at him was too risky.

“you are. you’re everywhere.” you huffed; not pleased with how clear the frustration was in your tone.

charles wasn’t phased, not in the slightest ━ the grin hadn’t left his face; almost as if any conversation with you was more than enough. even if you were huffing and puffing.

he wasn’t sure how the infatuation had spiralled so quickly; maybe he just wanted what he couldn’t have. the man wasn’t too use to rejection, and last week definitely stumped him.

or maybe he just refused to let you run away from what you clearly both see. feel. there was a connection here, he was sure of it.

“are we not friends?” charles question had you drawing a deep breath, suddenly aware of how slow these elevators were. and recognising the first flaw with being blessed with a penthouse room.

“of course we’re friends.” you rolled your eyes, speaking with such certainty as if you needed to remind yourself. friends.

you two were friends at most, that’s all you’d allow the pair of you to be.

“then you shouldn’t actively avoid me.” charles hummed, no shame in calling out your obvious behaviour that he’d let go on for too long.

it was humorous, the way your jaw dropped in offence at the accusation you knew was true.

“i do not.” your voice went up an octave, not even you could believe your own lie ━ nor try to sell it, avoiding his eye now as your leg began to bounce impatiently. it was becoming suffocating, in an enclosed space with him.

“you do.” charles mocked your voice ever so slightly, but the smile that went along with it left you no room to complain as you glanced over at him; your own lips curving upwards for a mere second.

you had nothing to say. to you it was clear, he knew where you stood. but you weren’t budging. it’s not like you wanted to deprive yourself of him; but you refused to sacrifice your career for a man. call it paranoia; but you don’t want to find out the consequences of adding truth to rumours.

“you don’t trust yourself around me.” charles had you read, and he wanted you to know it.

you two could be, should be, able to be friends at least. the monegasque was unsure as to why he was so set on such thing; some of you, was better than none.

“don’t flatter yourself.” you mumbled, attempting to dismiss his words; he was right. hit the nail on the head actually, but you wouldn’t admit that.

“we can be friends.” charles huffed when he realised he was straying from his original intentions; he didn’t want to provoke or tempt you. just make it clear there can be a platonic relationship here. you shouldn’t be scared of that.

“we are.” you reminded, eyebrows raising as you looked up at him; finally holding eye contact with the driver for more than a few seconds.

“then stop avoiding me.” charles repeated; and he’d be ashamed of how desperate he sounded if he had any room to care. but you were more of a pressing issue.

if he hadn’t called you out on a whole range of fronts you would’ve commented on his desperation; the elevator ding beating you to it regardless as the doors slid open.

“fine. only because you care so much,” your reply was playful; attempting to sound amused and unbothered ━ maybe that would distract from the fact you were agreeing with him.

you only had another day of being around him, you could easily do a day with him. las vegas was an example of your strength and will.

but as his grin widened, dimples and all, green eyes still pouring into yours as he backed out of the elevator; you knew it was never going to be easy.

the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air

everyone wants him, that was my crime

the wrong place at the right time

of course it wasn’t easy.

you’d kept true to your word, he’d called you out so you finally relented.

the only solace you found in allowing yourself to get closer to charles was the fact you were right.

every moment spent with him felt like a ticking time bomb. you were cracking, you knew it. deep down you knew it was only a matter of time until you shattered and he’d be there to pick up every piece.

at first you’d coincidentally ran into him at your favourite cafe in monaco. not the first time you’d seen him there; but the first time he signalled you to sit down.

it was harmless at first, a quick catch up. one you’d have with any other colleague you’d bump into in public during winter break.

but there was something about seeing him in such casual attire, hoodie and sweats portraying him in a new light you couldn’t help but take a liking too.

what should’ve been five minutes of small talk was two hours of conversation; two hours of mind numbing tension, pretending to not notice the way his eyes would linger on your lips every now and then. or acting oblivious to the way you laughed at every second word that left his lips.

he parted with an offer to go on a run together sometime, and you accepted with the assumption it would be an empty gesture. a plan that never gets put in place.

but then he texted you a few days later; and suddenly you were struggling to find excuses to reject the offer. struggling to find the want too.

a run wasn’t dangerous. you’d both be pre-occupied.

and you were, until you were standing there puffed; exhausted and puffed; and struggling to not grow further flustered of the sight of a sweaty charles.

muscles flexing against the tight shirt, hair messier than usual; cheeks slightly flushed.

inviting him up to your place for a drink wasn’t your intention, but your mouth was a step ahead of your brain.

uncharted territory had now been crossed. messages were swapped regularly, weekly runs together was almost routine. then hours of conversation at either your apartment or his.

if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you definitely had now. it was beyond physical attraction. and it was mutual.

it was the way you found yourself always ensuring you had the biscuits he’d practically raided the first time he was over, always in an unopened packet awaiting him.

the way he found himself buying the lime flavoured water you preferred to drink after exercising; knowing your odd quirk of not being keen on regular water.

the way he came over with your coffee order and a chocolate croissant from your shared favourite cafe when you bailed on your run, apologising to him because you’d become run down with a cold.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you’d sniffled, heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

“what else are friends for,” charles had practically cheesed.

you’d like to convince yourself he was still at a safe distance, it made it easier to ignore the fact this wouldn’t last forever.

the limbo state was not ideal to neither of you, but it was much better than doing what you felt was inevitable. avoiding him again.

except that would just be much harder this time. before it was a crush; now you were swoon. you counted down the days to see him. awaited his name to appear on your phone.

there’d been close calls; moments where you thought one of you would crack.

like the time you struggled to grab a glass out of his cupboard, tippy toes and all it was out of reach.

you felt him behind you before seeing him, hand finding your hip as his other arm simply reached over you to grab a glass; quick to turn on your feet you hadn’t expected him so close.

“thanks,” you had mumbled, clearly flustered as you looked up at him ━ trapped between his frame and the counter; eyes finding his lips immediately.

silence fell over the pair of you, awaiting one of you to make a move.

you were glad charles had cleared his throat and stepped aside, returning to a safe distance ━ because you didn’t think you’d be capable of such thing in that moment.

charles questioned how he managed to do such thing, each and every time you got close to him he doubted how long he could resist being selfish.

he’d failed to realise back in abu dhabi that he neither could trust himself around you. he’d put in so much effort to prove to you that friends was possible, so naive to the fact it may be worse than before.

while he loved your company, it was a cruel reminder that you had ruled out the possibility of this going further. any dreams or fantasies of more would always stay that way; dreams. not reality.

it frustrated him beyond belief, not that he showed it. the way you gazed up at him through your pretty eyes; as if you’d do anything he asked. the way you always leant towards him when you laughed; how easily he could make you laugh.

and he couldn’t do anything about it. because he wasn’t selfish, you feared the consequences of being with him so he would not push you to face them.

deep down however, the pair of you knew it could only be a matter of time.

yet it still stung how easily it could’ve been avoided.

you weren’t meant to go out tonight, it had been a last minute and spontaneous decision; pressured by your friends who insisted, claiming you missed too many girls nights as it is. that winter break was there time to make up for all you miss while away during the season.

you got kicked out of the first bar you found yourself in, all because one of your friends picked a fight with the bartender; but that didn’t bother you in the moment.

on to the next.

it took a whole eight minutes being at the club, one you had subtlety name dropped to get yourself and your friends into, to spot charles in the crowd.

your friends eyes had found him first; your own merely following theirs in curiosity, and you were grateful that all four of you were preoccupied looking at the driver so they would fail to realise your own longing.

“i have not seen him in ages,” your friend stella spoke first; clueless to the developed friendship between the pair of you. you hadn’t really told anyone, call it trust issues.

“we should go say hi,” stella continued; looking at you all with hopefulness; eyes having lit up and appearing incredibly eager.

you couldn’t think of a worse idea. alcohol and charles almost ruined you once; and that was a few months ago. you didn’t think you had that much self control left.

“we have our own driver right here,” your friend had joked, rejecting the idea as she nudged your arm; purely because she wanted a girls night. and you laughed at the stupidity, ready to play along for your own selfish interests.

“unfortunately y/n, you’re not one stella can sleep with again,” your other friend joked through a smirk, alcohol causing word vomit, because by the way stella quickly slapped her arm told you that information she didn’t want shared.

the revelation had your face falling flat, not able to hide such thing as you pursed your lips in thought.

“you and charles?” the words escaped your lips with too much interest but you couldn’t stop yourself. suddenly needing to know more.

stella had let out an exasperated sigh.

you were grateful to know your friend beside you who rejected the idea of speaking to him was as shocked as you.

“ages ago.” stella tried to downplay, waving the idea off. although then she peered over her shoulder to look at the driver again, an innocent smile spreading across her face.

you nodded slightly, trying to muster a fake smile. you couldn’t be mad; it wouldn’t be rational to be mad. even in the slightest.

“i’m gonna go talk to him.” stella announced, and you could only swallow intently as your friend whined about it being girls night, watching as stella promised she’d be back before weaving through the crowd.

you were staring, but you didn’t care.

left to watch as stella made her presence known. watch as charles face lit up at the familiar face, embrace her quickly and introduce her to those he was stood with.

you could tell he was slightly tipsy, the way he was swaying side to side; even with his arm now draped around stella’s shoulders.

the sight made you sick. jealousy was an ugly trait but you’d never embraced it like you were now.

jealous of the fact your friend didn’t have to worry in going after what she wanted. jealous that she could quite happily cling to charles without worrying who saw.

your mood had plummeted, there was no hiding it. your friends definitely noticing but not questioning as they too glanced over at stella to note her progress.

it wasn’t until charles’ eyes found yours across the room that you looked away.

not in shame, you didn’t care that he knew you were watching; but more so to not make it clear how annoyed you were from the sight alone.

charles tensed up the moment he saw you ━ he hadn’t known you were here. and now that he did, the company he was with suddenly wasn’t good enough.

he’d picked up on your cold stare though; the way you failed to offer him your usual sweet smile.

suddenly he felt guilty, quick to remind himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

the driver distracted himself momentarily, tuning back into the conversation that was going on around him. but his mind was now elsewhere. you were consuming his thoughts now.

intentions to keep his distance were thrown out the window when he noticed you in his peripheral; standing at the bar alone.

he shouldn’t approach you; but the idea of letting you sit there and think he would rather spend his time with the blonde on his arm than you didn’t sit well with him either.

so he found himself excusing himself, heading to the bar where you stood.

you’d grabbed your drink, and the moment you turned around to head back to your seat and continue your moping, you’d spotted charles headed straight towards you.

a creature of habit; avoid him was your first thought. so you attempted to pretend to not see him, a sudden sense of urgency as you headed back to the booth your two friends were still sat at.

charles picked up on such thing however, his own urgency increasing as he managed to get ahead of you; practically cutting you off.

you’d been so desperate in your attempts to avoid him and his eyes that you collided, your drink taking the brunt of the hit as it fell to the ground; pouring ice and liquid on the floor, thankfully missing the pair of you.

you were quick to glare up at him, made to watch as he put his hands up in innocence and let out a quick and not too meaningful ‘sorry.’

you didn’t want to speak to him. he was an easy target for your current anger, so stepping around him was easy; you’d go without your drink for now, wanting to return to the safety of your booth.

but charles didn’t think that was fair.

he’d grabbed your arm before you made it two steps away; your name falling from his lips almost in warning.

“you don’t get to be mad at me.” charles huffed, it wasn’t fair. you told him that friends was the only possibility, so you had no reason to be glaring daggers and avoiding him as if he’d done something wrong.

he was right, you knew he was right. you weren’t even mad at him. but you were mad; fed up with the constant deprival you had to put yourself through, at how much you cared about what people would say ━ that you couldn’t put you and him out of your shared misery.

but unfortunately you had nothing else to aim your anger at; it was just you and charles in this position, meaning he fell into your firing line.

“i think you care too much about what i think of you.” you tried to dismiss his comment; not wanting to admit he was right, calling out his constant efforts of chasing you.

you watched as his jaw tensed, the breath he let out and his eyes drifting aside as he tried to rationalise his thoughts before he said something he’d regret.

“i didn’t know you knew stella.” charles huffed; deciding on what could be a civil approach. he didn’t need to explain himself, but that would be easier than playing into your game and letting you try create a rift between the pair of you.

you wanted to throw the words back at his face; but you stopped yourself. neither he nor stella owed you any loyalty when it came to one another; definitely not back then, so you couldn’t use it against him.

“it doesn’t matter.” you tried to sound calm, remove yourself from the animosity you held. if you could just get away from him, go home, and pretend this never happened.

“it clearly does.” charles didn’t miss a beat; it would have been easier to blindly believe you but how was that possible when you were refusing to meet his eyes and running away from him.

you shook your head, not knowing what to say because you couldn’t disagree there. he was right; like usual, surprise, surprise. truths were harder to ignore when it was coming from his mouth.

“it shouldn’t.” you spoke simply, before turning on your heel and heading towards the bathroom now; anywhere to get away. the thread was getting thinner, you didn’t trust yourself around him.

he’d debated on following you for a couple seconds, knowing what he should do. return to his friends. to stella; there was no complications there.

but yet he found himself just a few steps behind you, refusing to let you get the last word. to let you fall back into your old habits of avoiding him.

a part of you knew he was following you, or maybe that’s what you wanted to believe. your want to get away from him was just a product of self preservation, not true desire.

so you weren’t surprised to hear your name once you were about to reach the bathroom. turning around to face him with a sigh. you should’ve pretended to not hear him.

“what are you doing?” you huffed; looking at him with lost eyes because you were running out of things to say or do, unsure where to go from here.

“what do you want?” charles question caught you off guard, alongside the fact he took maybe one or two steps too many when catching up to you ━ so close and you couldn’t find the strength to create any distance.

you pursed your lips, shaking your head ever so slightly.

the lack of an answer spoke for itself, you knew what you wanted. him. but admitting such thing would be dangerous.

“you know we can’t━” you started to say, needing to remind yourself that as tempting as he was right now it wasn’t possible.

he cut you off however. charles knew what you thought; what you presumed others would think.

“i don’t care about anyone else. what do you want?” charles repeated, speaking with such intent it would’ve been intimidating if your mind wasn’t a scramble of thoughts.

he was practically begging you to spell it out for him; to face the truth of the matter. if you could look him in the eye and tell him you were happy with what you both had right now, he’d walk away.

but you were never going to do that. you could only bend so far.

you finally snapped.

connecting your lips with his was the easiest option, and the moment you did it was as if nothing else mattered. relief washing over the pair of you, as if a giant weight was suddenly lifted.

there’d been the slightest amount of hesitant in the action, but that was forgotten immediately.

it was rushed and messy at first, months worth of tension bubbling to the surface as your hands both pawed at one another eagerly; grabbing whatever you could.

having your hands on him wasn’t something you’d take for granted; gripping his shirt; moving to his biceps before wrapping around his neck.

his intentions were similar to yours, his large hands sprawling amongst the sides of your waist ━ not bothered by the way it caused your dress to bunch ever so slightly. he tugged you closer too, as if he was scared you’d leave his grasp.

he managed to back you into the bathroom without disconnecting your lips; hand only leaving your waist to fiddle blindly with the lock.

the kiss was still messy, eager and heated; gasping into his mouth when your back suddenly hit the wall. charles body enclosing you immediately, your legs suddenly feeling week as his hips pressed forward against yours.

it was not surprising that it didn’t stop their, neither of you were stopping now that the ice had been broken.

the night concluding with your hands spread on the wall ahead of you as charles pounded you from behind, dress bunched around your waist and panties pulled aside.

“gotta be quiet mon amour,” he’d whispered into your ear after your moans continued to grow in volume ━ his hand then moving to your jaw, sliding two fingers past your lips to shut you up.

you would’ve died happily in that moment, moments away from the best orgasm of your life.

no matter what happened, you wouldn’t be regretting it.

and I break down, then he's pullin' me in

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

you hadn’t seen charles since that night in monaco.

he’d left for maranello not too long after, then you spent the rest of break in america; the season approaching relatively quickly.

messages were swapped, but nothing more.

testing was hectic, you didn’t get to see him or spend time with him even if you wanted too.

you weren’t sure you wanted to however. you missed him, that had been mutually expressed over text. but both you and he were scared; unsure how to navigate what happens now.

because unfortunately the circumstances hadn’t changed, you’d just gotten a taste of one another.

by the time it was raceday at bahrain, all excitement for the start of the season had left your body.

thursday set the tone; all your hard work, months of avoidance and deprival ━ it suddenly meant nothing.

you first caught wind of such in the press conference, sat alongside max, lewis, lando, carlos and alex.

when you finally got asked a question, your breath got stuck in your throat.

“did you enjoy your winter break? a new trainer in charles it seems?”

the question was posed so innocently, you knew the tone. the cheery and amused light heartedness to mask the undertones; it was accusing. you knew it was; any girl would get it.

you knew photos were circulating of you and charles running around monaco, but that wasn’t an issue. there were photos of you and daniel out for lunch as well. ones of you and toto exchanging hello’s.

what a headline; you got along with people you worked with.

“uh yeah,” you laughed off; biting your tongue, like usual. you knew when to pick your battles. “i’m no good at padel so, stuck to running.” you hummed, left to watch as the journalist nodded almost unconvinced.

it was a sinking feeling; they knew, everyone knew. it’d somehow got out. that you’d slept together. paranoia; you had to remind yourself. they couldn’t know.

“is it difficult to have relations off track with competitors?” he was looking you dead in the eye as he posed another question to you, and it hit a nerve.

you shifted ever so slightly in your seat. you hadn’t faced these sort of questions since your rookie year, when journalists didn’t realise what they should and shouldn’t imply.

you had to hold back a scoff; biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“is that a question for all of us or just me?” you practically challenged, and the awkwardness that fell over the room only had the pit in your stomach growing.

it was as if they all knew something you didn’t.

that was all you were asked, all you could think about as you sat on the couch, itching to get out of this damn room.

but that was just the start.

entering the haas hospitality your gut feeling made sense when you were faced with the entirety of the press team awaiting you.

granted, the press team was only four people. but you only ever really dealt with your own press officer if it was without warning.

the whole conversation was a blur, you felt sick the moment it begun.

‘we need to have a meeting,’

‘there’s photos of you and leclerc,’

‘damming to your reputation. our reputation,’

‘unacceptable behaviour and a breach of contract,’

‘negotiating to not let mainstream media run with it,’

‘we’re opening our own private investigation.’

you were being spoken at, no room to reply, no ounce of sympathy. you could feel the disgust as they spoke. as if you’d actually done something wrong.

“investigation?” you repeated in confusion, bewildered as you glanced between the lot of them.

you didn’t know what to say. or do.

deny? beg them to cover it up? apologise?

you felt like that 13 year old girl again, that anything you said wouldn’t matter. keeping your mouth shut as they broke out in chatter again.

short. blunt. your own press officer not even sticking around as they the dispersed, even mentioning that gene would probably be calling later.

you felt like you were going to throw up the moment you got into the privacy of your drivers room, it only taking a few seconds to find the photos flooding your timeline.

monaco. it was undeniable. it was definitely him, definitely you, kissing.

you held back your tears, determined to not let the comments ruin you. your press teams words lingering, but you pushed them back.

the day dragged, you were on edge; one wrong move and an on pour of tears would arise to the surface. just needed to wait till you were in the privacy of your hotel room.

these people would not see you cry.

you hadn’t expected the cold shoulder from your own team. but it was your manager that was the tip of the iceberg.

you hadn’t seen him all day, a close friend you’d consider him, he’d been with you since f3.

“where have you been?” you breathed as you climbed into the car, more than relieved to be leaving the track. and hopefully every conversation that was had.

“cleaning your mess.” he’d muttered in annoyance, and you couldn’t help but shake your head as your jaw clenched.

“not you too,” it was an attempt of a joke, head resting against the window. “don’t know why people are acting like i shared the teams 3 year plan with the enemy,” you huffed.

but you were only met with silence, causing your eyes to glance to your manager who was focused on his laptop in his lap.

“i mean it jason. the way i was treated today was━” you began to speak up at his silence, anger was easier than the self pity.

“what did you expect?” his question was venomous, shutting you up quickly as you stared at him with a slack jaw. it took a few moments to process, how he was on side with them.

or more importantly, not on your side. the guy who you pay to be on your side.

“for my personal life to remain personal.” you spoke like it was obvious.

you had feared this, yes, but that didn’t mean it was right. maybe you held onto hope your lack of faith in the world was misplaced. but everyone was proving you right.

he shook his head simply, so disappointingly you had to laugh, eyes gazing back out the window as you rapidly approached the hotel.

“i thought you didn’t want to be known for this.” his comment was a throw away one, but it cut you deep. his insinuation one he knew would sting, so you didn’t hide the fact it did.

“known for what?” you spoke through gritted teeth; if he wanted to insult you he better not half ass it.

there was moment of silence, hesitance; but not long enough.

“sleeping around.” he shrugged, still typing away on his computer. “great way to halt contract talks. i mean come on y/n,” he groaned.

you weren’t sure if he was right, you’d like to think your talent would over shine paddock gossip. but if he was right, the problem should lie with teams misogyny. not your sex life.

you highly doubt ferarri will hesitate resigning charles because of the matter.

you didn’t say another word, not trusting your voice; it was too much. felt like you were being attacked from every angle. ambushed even.

you’d slammed the door the moment you got out the car, urgently getting inside the hotel; managing to find the elevator through blurry eyes, tears threatening to spill.

almost there.

the elevator ride was testing, the silence made your short breaths and sniffles hard to ignore as you tiptoed on the line of breaking.

the final straw however, was charles himself leaving his hotel room as you navigated your way to yours.

your name had never sounded so delicate coming from his lips, as if he knew that you were fragile, sympathetic eyes as he took a few steps towards you.

“don’t━” you breathed out, voice breaking on you before you could say his name. your hand raising to tell him to stay where he was.

the first tear fell, silently.

“i’m so sorry,” he breathed out; cautiously stepping forwards despite your action. it broke him, the sight of you. he’d never seen you so upset.

overjoyed, pissed off, ecstatic, confused, riled up; he’d seen it all. but never had he seen you cry.

“you’re the last person i want to see right now.” you managed to get out.

lie.

complete lie, but unfortunately once more he was an easy target. the face of today’s events and the reason for fractures in practically every professional relationship you’d formed over the years.

charles didn’t take your words to heart, watching as you fumbled to find your room key; your shaky hands had him frowning, behind you now as he grabbed your arm when you took a step inside.

“please,” charles sighed; desperate for you to let him help. let him comfort you. he felt responsible, but it wasn’t guilt that was pushing him towards you.

just the need to ensure you were okay.

he’d barely received a slap on the wrist. told by his press team to ‘be more careful next time.’ and reminded issues would arise if talks of strategy and racing came to light.

that was that. his day went on. he almost got ahead of himself, optimistic the day could end with him showing up at your door to tell you that you never had anything to worry about.

but word spread quickly in the paddock, and charles caught onto the double standards incredibly quickly with how you were being spoken about in comparison to him.

you didn’t trust your voice once more, simply shaking your head ‘no’ as you got inside, attempting to shake his grasp.

he didn’t let you however, which was almost a relief.

the door shut behind the pair of you, charles tugging you towards his chest immediately.

you had no more strength, no fight left; simply letting him do so as the tears poured.

your head met his chest, arms clinging to his shirt as his arms went around you; holding you close as he mumbled encouraging words.

he felt like a safe place, allowing you to be weak and vulnerable with no fear for the first time in a long time.

quiet sobs and sniffles escaped you as you shook in his hold. it wasn’t just a days worth of torment, no, but all the other shit you put up with from the start of your career.

charles wasn’t sure what to say, just that it’d be okay. let it out. i’ve got you.

his hand was running through your hair delicately, and you somehow register the multiple kisses he pressed to the top of your head; such subtle actions that managed to slow your heart rate.

“i’m so sorry,” charles words were whispered, it was what brought you out of your own head; teary eyed peering up at him as you shook your head.

this wasn’t his fault.

“not your fault,” you spoke through a deep breath, starting to gain your composure. still timid, but you’d gotten the tears out.

“it’s not yours either.” charles spoke in certainty, sounding pissed off. because he was. and it made your stomach flip.

it was the bare minimum, but hearing someone be in your corner was exactly what you needed. the fact it was charles was just a bonus.

“i mean it’s more my fault than yours. i didn’t leave you alone, putain, i am sorry,” he began to ramble. the guilt was eating him alive. you’d tried to avoid this ━ he couldn’t help but feel as if he threw you into the lions den.

you disagreed however. deep down, this all felt inevitable. like it was a matter of when, not if. you were so scared of this happening because apart of you knew there was no avoiding it.

“i don’t regret it.” you told him in certainty, hand moving to cup his cheek; offering a sad smile. “it’s just━ not fair.” you mumbled.

his smile mirrored yours, lacking the usual brightness it held as thumb lifted to your cheeks; brushing away the tears staining your skin.

“it’s gonna be okay. i’ll fix this.” charles promised, but it wasn’t a promise he could keep. you knew that, your head tilting aside as you sighed.

his intentions were pure, held your best interest at heart.

“m’ just gonna have to let it blow over.” you told him, taking a sharp inhale. that didn’t answer the question that lingered between the pair of you.

what this was. what you two were.

he nodded ever so slightly, frustration growing at the fact he couldn’t fix it himself. he wanted to help. to rid you both of the outside noise and judgmental opinions.

“but i think━” you’d cut yourself off, you didn’t want to say it.

he knew however, by the way your grip had tightened on his shirt. the way your eyes held sympathy and sorrow. he knew what you were going to say.

“i know,” charles sighed; nodding in reassurance.

this needed to stop. whatever this was, it couldn’t go further. not for now at least; charles knew that.

rumours won’t die down if there is still truth to them.

your bottom lip quivered slightly at the sight of the sad smile he showed you; the way he was so willing to comply.

you hated the fact you both had to suffer, all for what?

“i’ll stay away, i promise,” charles hummed; biting down on the inside of his cheek as he ran his fingers through your hair once more.

you still had no words, because it was the last thing you wanted. yet somehow was what you needed.

you’d like to say to hell with it, to tell him you didn’t care. that you could be together, and figure out the latter.

but today had been hell; you weren’t sure it was something you could get used too.

“thank you,” you whispered out; charles only response was pulling you close once more, knowing when he let you go, it would be for good.

he had to let you go.

but if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us

if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once

charles stayed true to his word.

it was obvious, the way you two steered clear of each other.

talk of you and him died down, the paddock found something else to focus on within a couple weeks; and it was just another story for the history books that would be brought up every now and then.

their was awkwardness in the team however.

their investigation closed with no findings, something you laughed at.

a motivator; to get the fuck out of there.

it paid off, comfortably beating your teammate. dragging the car into the points most weeks.

talks with mercedes was going well, progressing nicely ━ you wanted to emphasise to your manager that charles hadn’t been mentioned once from them either.

but you weren’t going to dwell on the past.

not audibly at least.

charles was a sacrifice you hated making, and it was mutual.

it was cruel, the way you were too scared to meet his eye if cameras were around. scared one wrong move and you’d be jumped on by prying eyes and gossipers.

charles too shared your fear; he didn’t want to put you in a compromising position. and while it was physically painful to cut you off completely, he managed.

none was easier than some, it seemed.

it was laughable, how the pair of you actually believed the avoidance would stick this time. that it would actually work.

couldn’t even make it to summer break, a few months apart was bound to be all you could endure.

monaco, a race you’ll never forget.

your signing with mercedes was announced on the thursday; a milestone in your career, a highlight.

you were ecstatic, nay-sayers and doubters did little to dull your mood ━ nothing would ruin such an achievement.

but it motivated you.

you heard it all before, when you signed with haas. how it was a PR move, not on merit. for the money you would bring in. the commercial value.

it was the same thing, and the need to prove people wrong was always a blessing when you got in the car.

it’d been a wet qualifying, playing into your favour. putting the car into p3 meant everything would’ve had fallen into place. and it did.

you were overjoyed, the smile had not been wiped off your face. you were proving that contract was yours based off your talent.

you went on to hold onto p3 in the race and secure a podium, you were high off adrenaline and excitement the moment you got out of the car.

you’d handled the pressure, failed to make a mistake; blessed to have had your best qualifying at the hardest place to overtake.

the other headline of the weekend?

charles had finally won his home race.

he wasn’t on your mind, not as you shared the podium. or as you faced the media together afterwards.

you cared deeply for charles, but this was your childhood dream. years worth of hard-work had finally paid off. being near him wasn’t hard, for once, because you had way too many things to currently be happy about.

it was civi and casual, friendly; in the cool down room, on the podium; in the interview.

it wasn’t until later that night, on a random super-yacht, surrounded by drunken socialites and f1 personalities that temptation reached you once more.

you’d barely had a drink, being pulled in every way and direction; talking to many that you didn’t have time to sip the half full glass in your hand.

charles knew this; he’d been watching you all night.

his dream had come true, winning in monaco; in front of his home fans.

call him greedy for wanting more as he stood on the yacht, surrounded by his friends as his eyes settled on you.

he couldn’t help but think of the only way to make this night perfect; you.

the praise and congratulations from everyone else was nice, but he was dying to hear it from you.

to congratulate you as well. on your podium. on your contract.

he thought he was over it, the unfairness of it all. but this was a new challenge.

watching as you stood there, hugging everyone. beaming and laughing, as you should.

would it be so wrong for him to congratulate you as well? to steal a couple minutes of your time? he’d promised to stay away, but this had to be an exception.

right?

so charles went against his word, weaving through the crowd the moment you caught a break in conversations.

uncharacteristically dismissing those who tried to speak to him as he set on his way towards you, nothing would stop him.

“hey,” charles made his presence known; capturing your attention; and the way your eyes lit up and lips curved upwards, he wanted to kill whoever had deprived him of such sight for however many months.

“hi!” you couldn’t help but sound surprised, pleasantly surprised.

you’d been wanting to talk to him; which wasn’t anything new. needing to talk to him however, just unsure how to navigate such thing.

“congratulations. sure you’ve heard it all, but you deserve this.” charles words were genuine; smiling down at you proudly, and while you had heard it all the past couple hours; it meant more coming from him. “the contract as well. huge news,” he added.

your nose scrunched up slightly, grinning ━ pure happiness present because you really were oh so happy.

“thank you,” you smiled; nodding appreciatively. “i should say the same to you. i know how much this win means to you,” you spoke; and charles could only smile at the way you sounded so sincere.

“thank you,” his turn to offer thanks, a silence falling over the pair of you.

that was all you should say, all you were sure was excusable.

it was clear, the way you both had so much on the tip of your tongue; too scared to let it out. neither wanting to be the one to crack. to undone all the hard work.

charles so desperately wanted to rant his heart out, remind both you and himself that the past few months had been undeserved torture. and he was convinced he was going to for a moment.

but he couldn’t. he wouldn’t be selfish with you.

“well i’ll see you━” charles had cleared his throat, ready to do the right thing. to walk away, like he promised he would.

but you cut him off. scared if you didn’t tell him now, you never would.

“wait.” you interrupted, pursing your lips; and he was happy to shut up. he didn’t need any convincing to stay put.

“i uh, with my mercedes contract…” you trailed off; biting your lip. “i made it clear, what expectations would be of me. on and off track, obviously. like anyone would,” you rambled slightly; nervously even.

charles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you nervous.

you were nervous because of what you were implying.

you’d made it clear you didn’t want to be held to any individual expectations off track, that your relations with others wouldn’t concern the team if it didn’t jeopardise the team.

you were grateful, how understanding mercedes were. a breath of fresh air really. so much you’d basically outright told them that you didn’t want you and charles to be an issue, if anything were to arise between the pair of you.

you’d figured if you had a team that backed you, handling outside noise and assumptions would be made a lot easier.

“me and you, it wouldn’t be an issue.” you summed up; practically spitting it out. it felt weird, suddenly lacking confidence as you referenced a ‘you and him.’ worried that ship had sailed.

you watched as his eyebrows raised, lips parting in surprise.

he hadn’t expected you to say such thing, the one thing he’d dreamt of you saying one too many times.

“if that uh, you know. ever happens, i don’t know,” you added on; feeling the need to back pedal, not wanting to come off headstrong. it was the reason for your hesitance. you and charles had never discussed what you were, because it never seemed possible.

charles wasn’t sure what to say. his first instinct was to kiss you; because it seemed as if this was the best night of his life, with all his hopes and dreams coming true.

but his care for you trumped all.

“people will still talk,” he couldn’t help but remind softly. not to argue against you, but to ensure you knew exactly what you were implying. he knew the rush you were feeling, first podium. fresh off multiple highs, he didn’t want you to come crashing down tomorrow and regret these words tonight.

he didn’t know you’d already assessed all your options, weighed up the two cons. your mind had been made up, you just needed to bite the bullet.

you’d already been through it, called every name in the book. may as well make it all for something.

“let them.” you breathed out, a shy smile following suit, mischievous almost, quoting him from that night in vegas. you’d said it with confidence, such conviction he knew you meant it.

his smile was bright, practically beaming at you as he nodded. unsure what to do next, but he didn’t care. he liked the way things were looking.

he hadn’t expected you to kiss him, in the middle of the crowded floor, but god he wasn’t complaining ━ hands finding the small of your back as yours wrapped around his neck.

you’d pulled away shortly afterwards, not creating any distance as your foreheads touched.

“if you still want this of course,” you spoke; just above a whisper, realising you hadn’t really let him confirm he still wanted this.

he’d laughed, at the idea alone he didn’t. shaking his head at the thought as he brought his hand up to cup your face.

“all i could think about tonight, was that the only thing that would make today truely perfect, would be sharing it with you.” charles confessed; taking in the way you lit up at his words, watching as any last doubts or fears vanished from your frame.

you were relaxed, happy and carefree; not one bit of energy spent on anyone around you. who saw, who cared; it meant nothing to you.

you giggled as you pressed your lips to his again, passionately this time; charles leaning over you as he held your body close to his, smiling against your pink lips.

it felt incredibly cliche, as if you were the only two people on the yacht in the moment.

he’d murmured something about getting out of here only moments later, you being quick to agree.

patience was something you’d both demonstrated incredibly well over the last year; safe to say you both had none left to spare.

navigating the crowd hand in hand almost felt like a rush, relieving to not care as you followed him off the yacht; giddy like teenagers as you climbed into the back of a car.

he’d barely gotten his address out before you were on him again, lips pressed against his as you gripped his shirt.

charles hand tangled in your hair, revelling in the way your lips felt against his. he’d spent many nights recounting your night together; attempting to cling to the feeling and pleasure it brought. this was ten times better than what his imagination could produce.

the only time you kept your hands off him was the short walk from the car to the elevator of his apartment complex, the moment the doors slid shut you found yourself pressed against the wall ━ his hands gripping your hips and lips attacking your neck.

you became breathless quickly, satisfied hums escaping you; head tilting back to give him as much access as he wanted.

“have i ever told you how beautiful you are mon ange,” charles sighed against your skin; only lifting his head when he heard the doors ring open.

you smiled at him stupidly, taking in the sight. his pretty green eyes, slightly swollen lips and tussled hair. more beautiful than anything you’d ever seen before.

“come on,” you mused with a blush, urging him to head to his room; in quick pursuit.

you’d barley gotten your heels off once inside when charles was snaking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up as your legs wrapped around his waist.

it didn’t feel really; finally able to have you like this.

“gonna make you feel so good,” charles murmured against your lips as he navigated his way through the apartment, hands squeezing your ass which granted a gasp from you. “deserve so much more than a quickie in the bathroom,” he commented.

while your first time together was more than satisfying, it was rushed. muffled moans and chasing release desperately with fear the moment could’ve been ruined in any moment.

tonight you were all his. no need to keep you quiet, no limit to the positions he could put you in.

he sat at the end of his bed; you not taking long to get comfortable in his lap as your lips moved roughly against his; hips grinding as you did so.

“you won,” you breathed out as you shifted your attention up his jaw, teeth catching his ear momentarily as you kissed at the skin of his neck. “let me make you feel good,” you whispered; charles head tilting back as he audibly groaned. “you deserve it,”

charles always loved praise, his ego thrived on it. but god, hearing it from you? his pants were feeling way too tight.

he couldn’t say no to you, not that’d he’d ever want too.

you didn’t give him any time to reply regardless, climbing off his lap and standing between his legs momentarily, hands holding onto his knees as you pressed one lingering kiss to his lips.

sinking to your knees, you were incredibly eager. a scenario you’d play out too many times as your hands got to work in freeing his cock.

charles lips parted as he rested back on his hands, head tilted downwards as he watched you intently ━ biting down on the inside of his cheek at the sight alone.

his breaths only got heavier as you spat in your hand and jacked him off a couple times, hissing as your thumb rolled over his tip.

the sight was better than you could imagine, as you took him in your mouth and watched his head fall back. his clenched jaw, neck muscles and arms flexing as he groaned.

it had your thighs clenching together, not wasting time in bobbing your head; taking as much of him as you could; hitting the back of your throat each time but it did little to deter you.

“putain,” charles grunted under his breath ━ forcing himself to tilt his head back down to watch you work, hand gathering your hair in a makeshift pony tail. and the way his lips curved into a smirk when your eyes met his had your thighs clenching once more.

“there you go pretty girl, taking me so well,” charles huffed ━ noting the way you gagged around him every now and then, yet showed no signs of slowing down. “mouth is fucking heaven,”

his praise only encouraged you further, doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes; tears welling in your eyes.

your hand was holding his thigh for support, watchinf as he busied himself momentarily by ridding himself of his shirt ━ revealing his toned torso flexing with each sharp breath he took.

“pull your dress down,” his words were direct, a clear demand and with him staring down at you like he was ready to ruin you, you didn’t need to be told twice. tugging your dress down to free your breasts.

his admiring eyes raked your body shamelessly, pleasure only increasing from the sight. you were fucking perfect, and he couldn’t believe this was real.

it was as if you caught on to the moment, reading him perfectly as your efforts picked up ━ keen to make him cum.

and by the way he was starting to tug on your hair, you knew he was close.

he came in your mouth moments later with little warning, and you were practically squirming in your place as you licked him clean.

“you’re perfect,” charles breathed after catching his breath, which happened incredibly quickly; signalling you to climb back into his lap.

you giggled as you did so, grinning as you pressed your lips to his once more; straddling him with ease as your hands spread across his toned chest ━ happy to touch him now that he was back in reach.

his hand moved up your leg, pushing your panties aside and cupping your cunt with little warning; causing you to moan into his mouth.

“you’re fucking soaked,” charles spoke, pulling back to watch your face contort in pleasure; watch as you became putty in his hold. “barely touched you yet baby,” he cooed ━ you couldn’t help but whine, hips bucking against his hand as he circled your clit.

he took in every feature on your pretty face, able to live in the moment and not be rushed like last time. make you feel everything he wanted you too.

“who would’ve guessed you were such a slut,” charles mused; practically toying with you. he couldn’t help himself, not when you looked so pretty panting and whimpering in his lap.

“for you.” you whimpered, hand gripping his bicep tightly as your hips moved against his hand; yearning for more.

he grinned widely at that, rewarding your words as a finger pushed past your folds unexpectedly.

“all for me.” charles hummed in agreement, words still slightly breathless himself as his other hand moved to cup the side of your face, making avoiding his eyes impossible. “all mine.”

the statement had your stomach flipping, words you could used to. something you’d know a long time, but hearing it out loud was so refreshing.

you were his. he was yours.

“please charles,” you whined out impatiently, his toying with your cunt felt good; but you need more, your thighs a painted mess along with his hand by now.

your plea had him hardening again, words sounding so alluring coming from your lips.

“what do you want mon amour?” charles spoke through a breath, eyes gazing over you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. because you were. “tell me, i’ll give it to you,” he promised; thumb grazing your cheek; such a delicate action that didn’t correlate with his thumb teasing your clit expertly.

you whimpered again, cheeks a tint of pink as your eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but they found charles gaze once more.

“all of you,” you spoke. “wanna feel you,” you sighed; his cock was pressing against your inner thigh ━ not helping with the urge to feel him inside you.

his lips curved upwards, pleased with your answer; and unable to deny himself any longer either. you’d both been through enough torture, he wouldn’t be delaying this any longer.

“want me to fuck you yeah?” charles paraphrased for you, hand leaving your cunt to find your waist; lifting you off his lap with ease and laying you beside him.

he was hovering over you within seconds, leaving you to nod eagerly below him. your hands found the hem of your dress, tugging it up and over your head as if that would help entice him.

but he didn’t need any help; he doesn’t think he’d last another second without being inside you.

he slid inside you without another word, your gasps intertwining as your own head fell back against his pillow; eyes fluttering shut at the stretch.

he gave you a moment to adjust, his head falling into the crook of your neck; light kisses peppered on your skin, a contrast to the way he was about to fuck you.

your hands tugging on his hair told him you wanted more; thrusting into you slowly and deeply at first, your mouth fell agape at the angle it hit ━ moans beginning to fall from your lips.

“charles, fuck,” you mumbled ━ fingers moving down his back, sure to leave marks as he gradually picked up the pace.

his thrusts got quicker, but not softer; fucking you into the mattress, all you could do was whimper and moan ━ eyes rolling back at the pleasuring sensation.

“so perfect for me,” charles grunted; the way you were squeezing him was better than he remembered, keeping his focus on your own pleasure because if not, he’d probably cum within moments.

“oh my god,” you all but practically squealed when he moved your leg over his shoulder, feeling as if he was splitting you open; you bit down on your lip to try shut up the now constant sounds.

charles wasn’t having a bar of it however.

“ah, ah,” charles breathed; hand moving to tap your cheek. “wanna hear you gorgeous girl. every fucking sound,” charles told you; eyes pouring into yours which made it clear he wasn’t joking.

you nodded weakly, on cue charles delivering a harsher thrust that had you choking out a moan once more.

it didn’t take long, for you to get brought to the edge; stomach growing tight as your eyes rolled back once more. cumming without warning, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling.

a moment of weakness for charles, watching as you shook beneath him and screamed his name; squeezing him suddenly, he almost came too. he didn’t though thankfully, because his focus was still you.

you weren’t prepared for him to not relent, instead feeling his hand snake between your bodies and find your clit, eyes flying open.

“o-oh,” you gasped, the onslaught of pleasure hard to cope with as your hands gripped onto his back tightly, nails digging into his skin as he smirked down at you.

“take it baby,” charles grunted; eyebrows raising momentarily. “too much?” his question was teasing, and he couldn’t help the breathy chuckle when you shook your head; scared he’d stop. you didn’t want him to stop.

you weren’t sure you could take it, but you were going to try. you’d do anything for him when he was touching you like this.

“so good,” you moaned; tears welling in your eyes quickly from the overstimulation, body jolting with every thrust which hadn’t relented.

his stamina impressive, having not slowed down nor gotten sloppy as he pounded into you.

you were struggling to keep your eyes open now, lost in the pleasure. but charles wanted to watch you, and wanted you to watch him as you pushed you over the edge once more.

“look at me baby,” charles grunted; pinching your clit lightly which had your eyes flying open, meeting his. “gonna watch me as you cum again yeah?” charles told you, his own breaths heavier now as he struggled to not let himself revel in the feeling of you.

you nodded, again, like a broken record; all your effort focused on watching him as your face contorted in pleasure. maybe even a tear or two fell, the familiar feeling washing over you again suddenly as he delivered another harsh thrust. and another. and suddenly it was as if he found new energy somewhere.

you all but screamed his name as you came again suddenly, coming undone on his cock. he was close behind, unable to resist with the way your walls squeezed him again.

your heavy breaths filled the room as charles helped you both ride out your highs, before sliding out of you, he remained above you regardless.

he was looking at you in awe, hand pushing some of your hair away that had gotten stuck to your forehead, earning a lazy smile from you in return.

“i could get used to that,” your words broke the silence; eyes flickering to his lips which gave charles the hint to place a kiss on your lips, a delicate one unlike those shared earlier.

he’d chuckled at your words afterwards, humming in agreement as his hand ran up and down your side comfortingly.

“me too,” charles agreed with a grin; pressing yet another kiss to your lips, a longer one this time; passionate and slow. enjoying the moment. the peace of it all.

when you pulled away moments later, you practically beamed as you urged him off of you; moving to straddle him instead.

you had a lot of time to make up for.

━━━━━

a/n: oh she’s bACK BACK CHARLES FIC YAY

hope u liked, still rusty lol i don’t rlly like the smut but i did enjoy writing the angst hehe

unedited sorry i’ll get to that later like usual oOps

as always feedback is always greatly encouraged and appreciated, means the world to me so pls share ur thoughts 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

luv u all !!!!!!!

#f1 smut #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 angst #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fic #f1 fic #f1 one shot #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #driver!reader #charles leclerc

2K notes · View notes

kiyzukiy · 4 months ago

Text

Cat distribution system

Sypnosis: Caleb? A cat. You? None the wiser, but you have a stinky cat now so how about give him a bath? Nothing could go wrong, right?

Tags: CalebxReader, fun, Cat!Caleb, reader is not MC, self-aware!Caleb?, Caleb in our world

A/N: And I'm back again! This one is a bit shorter than the starter, but I hope you still like it. As usual cat shenanigans. That's it. I've also implemented a taglist now, so anyone who wants to get peeping hot updates hit me up! :3

Word count: 3,9k

<<previous || next >>

divider by me

Lost in your thoughts if you really should name a cat that you probably have to give away again, you didn’t notice the squirming cat on your thighs. Was it a wise choice? Probably not. If you gave it a silly name was it easier to give it away again? Like the ones they give the animals in a shelter. Dave, the magical cheese wizard or something. You also thought about giving it a meaningful name like “hope” or something along the lines.

You only got disrupted by your sense of smell. Jesus Christ, was that you? No. You were forgetting something very important here, you were sure of it. Raising up your arms so you could smell your clothes, you wanted to facepalm yourself the very next second. The cat. Where did you find it? That's right. In a dumpster. Oh your fucking god.

Amused about your own stupidity you shook your head. You really were tired and your mind was barely even in survival mode.

A tinge of guilt and shame hit your system. So immersed in yourself, you totally forgot that you picked up a cat on your way home and just did what you usually did. Playing Love and Deepspace for an hour and then making food as soon as motivation found your body again. It was a simple way to unwind. Clearing your head in a way and let you focus again as soon as your little me time was over. The true dangers of a routine, and what didn’t help your already offline mind was that cat quickly made your space to its new home. It surprised you that cat didn’t dive head first for a spot to hide after your small walk. You thoroughly expected that reaction as it was the default for any animal. Hide, checking out the stranger, gauging the threat and then maybe trying to form a relationship.

Not your friendly buddy of a cat right here though. Would you have any brain cells left to use critical thinking, you also would wonder about the high intelligence the cat a moment prior showed. How knowingly it moved it’s paws to go to “falling for you”, watching what it saw as if it understood the scene that played.

Once more ripped the stench you out of your thoughts. Cat however didn't seem to be bothered to be covered in grime and everything a street had to offer. Its fur caked together and a smell emitting you wished you could just dose it in a febreze bottle.

“Alright. No name for you yet, buddy. First a bath”, you said and scooped the cat up.

This time around the cat was not happy to be picked up. As soon as it wasn't on your legs anymore and near the tablet, cat began to yell and squirm in your arms like the devil was after it.

“I know, I know. Cat’s can bathe themselves and get clean but this is only once. I promise”, tried to soothe it and held it a bit tighter.

Cat didn't want to listen to you, it seemed like. Was it this against getting cleaned? Well, you did know cats usually didn't like water and maybe something bad happened to this cat with it. Rain and no shelter would be enough to avoid any kind of water, you think. Just for being in the safe, you closed the bathroom door behind you. No escape until this cat didn't smell like a drunk puked on it.

________

First up? A good call from you to take a bath. He did feel disgusting. Slowly the sensation of sticky dirt and grime spread all over his body, and he too couldn't stand the smell anymore. What even was in that dumpster? Couldn’t he have woken up in a recycling bin rather than in a trash dumpster with whatever that was inside?

Would he make it easy for you though? Hell no, he wanted answers and for you to figure out that the character you tried to gain affinity for and he was one and the same. That is what is most important here, right now.

As soon as you scooped him up, he started to complain. Ranging from a simple “let me down, I can walk” over a few demands and maybe one insult but he would rather die than admit that. The next thing he heard was you trying to convince him that it wasn’t even that bad and he knew. Caleb knew it wasn’t that bad, that it was necessary even but he was stressed. Confused. Angry and frustrated. Agitated and for once in his life, he didn’t know what was going on. Back at the experiments as a child, even then, he had a sliver of understanding as to why certain things happened. This shit right here? No clue. A mission, blackout and boom: Cat. If he ever would be honest with himself? He wanted to cry. It was all too much, all too overwhelming. He just got it all back. MC found him again, they slowly were in the making of a new relationship and now this? He almost had it all back.

The ash brown cat heard a lock falling into place. Oh no. His eyes and thoughts focusing back to reality that was about to unfurl. No, wait. Bathing? Him? You? You were going to bathe him? The realisation hit him like a freight train. He begged your finest pardon? No. The answer was no. Yes, it was necessary but he could do it on his own. No help needed. He was not a cat. He was. Not. A. Cat! No matter that he sported paws right now. He could make it work. He was a man and last time he checked, he was neither a child nor were you his mother that could warrant this treatment!

You placed him on the ground again. Cold tiles beneath his paws and he had to watch you what could only be described as his personal doom: adjusting water.

Ey! Leave! He can shower on his own! Ears flattening against his skull, he let out a growl.

“Alright mister, no need to hiss at me. It's not my fault you ended up like that”, you said absentmindedly with a little laughter in your voice. You weren't even looking in his direction. But, oh a smile on your pretty lips.

Caleb, in the back of his mind, did understand that you were doing your best as a person caring for a new found pet. If he would just take a deep breath and do what he usually did, that was seeing his opponent out of their eyes, he wouldn’t act this way but emotions were clouding his judgement so he did what he never did: letting them roll. Enraged at your unfitting response, he ended up nipping you in the heel.

“Ow! What the fuck? What was that for?”, with a look full of judgement you looked down at him. “I’m helping you here, you know?”

Serves you right, he meowed and huffed.

“Not so friendly anymore, huh?”, you chuckled and shook your head in amusement. In the back of his field of vision he saw you turning the water off. Clearly satisfied with the temperature.

Bold of you to assume that I’m friendly to begin with, he hissed. Not that he expected you to understand that.

You now fully turned to him and got on your haunches. A hand slowly crept towards him. Inching closer to brush once more over his fur. Soothing, calming, trying to convince him.

“You really need a bath though, so don’t make this difficult for the both of us, yeah?”, you said and looked at him with a pleading look.

Oh, game on. He will make you regret this. For picking him up on end, like he was some kind of plushie and not having a telepathic evol. Not that any of that was your fault. Was he petty? Childish? Probably, but he was frustrated and with no one but you to vent it on, this was almost too easy.

Caleb let out a huff. Fed up with you touching him without asking and the height difference that made his neck harden. No wonder you didn’t take him seriously that much. Who would when a smudgy little being that only could hiss and meow showed an act of defiance that was born out of pure spite?

With a flittering look he spotted the next best thing to remedy this temporary issue. In quick succession he was on the bathroom sink and sat down. Now he was looking down on your hunched over form. Your move now.

“Oho? Is this how you wanna play?”, you said as you got up from your position on the bathroom tiles. “Buddy, if you don't go on your own I have no issues to grab you by the scruff and hold you beneath the water. A good little water boarding session would do your new found attitude some good.”

You tried to sound earnest but he saw the mirth in your eyes and the mischievous smirk building on your lips. Still, he kept sitting. Buddy, as if. You were all bark and no bite.

“Have it your way then”, your hand darted out.

Nah, you wouldn't dare.

Ey! No!

He dashed away and just barely missed your hand that was straight going forthe back of his neck.

His escape route was right into the shower bed. Urgh, now his feet were wet. It felt more like stepping into water with socks on. This sensation did not spark joy. One dip and the next jump was right out of the shower again, a few hurried pitter patter taps and onto the toilet seat.

“Mister! Get back here!”

Nuh uh! You are crazy! Don't dare to remind him that he actually went with you to get clean. This objective clearly missing in his mind as he was hellbend of avoiding your hand that was rather good in trying to catch him. Making him work up a sweat. Just barely did he dodge your hand once more that reached for him and onto the sink shelf he went. If he could stick out his tongue, he would. Actually? Why not, he did stick out his tongue at you.

“Oh you think you are so smart, mister fancy pants”, you said, slightly out of breath. “Just you wait.”

Try me, he meowed, his playful character seeping through. Like a predator lying in wait, you assessed if he would move again. He did the very same. A silent stand-off ensued. Who would move first? Could he hide somewhere? Would you reach out obviously again?

In his moment of distraction he saw your hand too late out of the corner of his eye and the next thing he felt was your hand steadfast on his scruff.

“Aha!”, you celebrated triumphant. “Got you!”

Ah, well fought. He yields, but only because it wasn’t worth it to prolong the inevitable further. Your blinding smile to your victory and cute giggle in your voice, might have helped him as well. Caleb came to terms with the fact that you would help him take his first shower in this body. The ash brown cat also had to admit that it was funny to play catch it with you. It took his mind away from the disconnecting mess of information that he still needs to process. For a bit he was just himself again.

Cautiously you put your hand on his hind legs and picked him up. Steady grip that was strong enough so he couldn’t struggle but not enough to hurt. You set him down in the shower and he almost immediately jumped out again. The feeling of wet socks shoots up in him once more and for a split second he wanted to dip. Nah, fuck this.

“No. Stay”, you said with a stern voice and pressed his ass down in the shower. Ouh! Even worse! That’s like sitting down on a bench you didn’t know was wet.

I can stand!, he complained. Your grip not loosing up in return.

“Yes, yes. Water. I know. You got this.”

He definitely didn’t. Caleb's body was screaming at him to move and get rid of these sensations. You try to be a cat and he would force you to go through with this. You can bet your fine ass that he wouldn’t be so nice about it though.

He sighed. Maybe he should be a bit more kinder to you. Disregarding the conflict in his mind that, yes. He could, should and it probably would make this all easier. On the other side, why? You are a stranger. Basically kidnapped him (no, he wouldn't elaborate that he coaxed you into taking him with you) and made threats to harm him. A stranger he would leave behind as soon as he got his answers and could go back to his universe.

The ash brown cat heard the water turning up again. The hand on his neck never leaving. Merciful you faced the spray away from him. He half expected a full on face splash for his little stunt he just pulled and you following through with your promise you made earlier.

“Just how did you end up this way?”, you mused to yourself more than him. Honey, if only he knew. The meaning in more ways than one.

The water gently sprayed his paws first and then his whole body. The light flow of the water was like a breath of fresh air. Calming and soothing, it washed away the sood and dirt in his otherwise pristine fur. As well as in his mind. Back to logically and rationally thinking about his situation.

All he could do was meow at you to make you see that he listened.

“Yeah, not helping much buddy. I don't understand cat”, you giggled and put a bit of shampoo in your hands.

Again this buddy. For crying out loud, stop calling him that. He was not your friend nor a good acquaintance you could call that!

In retaliation he bit your hand that was about to lather him up in soap. Immediate regret greeted his taste buds and you just laughed harder.

“Suits you right. Bite me one more time, mister”, you grinned as you quickly went through his fur and got the sticky dirt out. Carefully and with a lot of probing, squeezing together and combing your finger through his fur you managed to make it smooth again. The flooring of the shower started to get coloured in a disgusting brown and grey. Small pebbles falling off of him.

All through it, Caleb stood still. His body relaxing, him just letting you do what you have to do. The feeling of wet clothes leaving as soon as the water hit his skin and god damn, you were good at massages. He didn't realise how beaten up his body was and stiff in some places. This was heaven.

Out of his control, he began to purr.

“That's the good shit, huh?”, you said in a hushed voice, your hands still getting out knots without making it hurt.

Caleb nodded to your statement. This was really it. Water hit his body once more, a little bit warmer this time around.

“Alright, mister. One more time and then you are free.”

Whatever you say, woman. He could just die right now. The ash brown cat wouldn't mind. He was in bliss. Your expert fingers making him forget that he actually still needed a way to tell you who he is and getting answers.

This time a different shampoo made him bubbly. Slowly he opened his eyes, only to be hit by your hands on either side of his cheeks. Holding his face so tenderly like he was made out of glass. When was the last time he got hold like this? Like he was the most precious thing the earth could grace?

“Hey there, big guy”, you smiled and slowly rubbed his face with your thumbs. Getting it also cleaned. “You truly have beautiful eyes.”

Caleb breath got stuck in his throat. Uh…back off? A bit too close for comfort. Hello? Uh?

A bit flustered he tried to move his head away but you gently turned it back to you.

“No, you need a handsome face too. Come here”, you said and returned back to gently rubbing his cheeks and lathering up his head.

“Yeah, there you go. Look at you. Such a handsome fella.”

Just how many compliments have you given him? He was used to having women and men alike salivating after him, but straight out compliments? It made him short circuit.

Once more water washed over him. This time his face as well. Looking out for his ears and eyes you washed the foam away. The water stopped and a quick kiss was pressed to the crown of his head. What?

“Wait here, mister”, he somehow registered you say. Was this violation? Assaulting, or did he like it? More confusion entered his brain. Breathing, he should be breathing.

Moments later he felt the fluffy feeling of a towel upon him. Gently but steady you patted him dry. Sometimes ruffling to get friction into his fur to get more water out. After a while you seemed satisfied with your drying off, so you got up again and he out of the shower.

Exhaustion tackled away the state of relaxation in him. The stark contrast of the humified, warm air in the shower and now being out of it made his small body shiver. Closing his eyes, he listened for what you are doing. Clinking and a few things got pushed aside, a cupboard opened and closed somewhere to his left. Not much later you were back in front of him.

“Hm, is someone getting tired?”, you asked in a soft voice and with a hand full of affection stroked along his cheek.

Yeah, you could say that. The experiences, happenings, tumultuous feelings from today finally caught up with him.

“Come on, buddy. I don’t know how much you like a blow dryer but you need to be properly dry before you get sick”, you explained.

Mh okay…it made Caleb remember the times he gave the same treatment to MC. He wanted to laugh that he was the receiving end today. No one before even tried to attempt to do it for him.

With no fight left in him, he let himself get picked up tenderly and placed on the bathroom sink. The whirring of the blow dryer starting soon after. Warm air washed over him, his eyes still closed. Just let him have this moment. This moment of care and tenderness, of not worrying for a bit, carefree maybe. For once not the one doing it all on his own.

“You are such a handsome balinese cat. The audacity to hide that, hm?”, you said in between. “Now your owners will recognise you.”

Sorry to tell you, princess. There will be no owners but regardless did he appreciate your care. Your help.

A balinese cat? That’s what he turned into? Interesting. This universe right here had an ironic sense of humor. Balinese cats were usually affectionate and playful. Things Caleb only was with his childhood friend. The only one he truly was close to.

Your hands left his body and he was dry again. Caleb was now as fluffy as the towel you dried him off with. He could only assume you were putting away the blow dryer. Would he dare to look? Look at himself in this form? Maybe he would wake up then and he could laugh about it with MC, what a fucked up dream he had.

So he turned to the mirror in front of the sink. An ash brown cat stared back at him. Black ears, whiskers and a black out right arm. The other three paws were also black, as the signature of a balinese cat. In his black face glimmered his own violet eyes he saw countless times before. Shining with the same intensity in lavender hues, strong blue lilac tones and the splatter of gold at the bottom.

Ah, so it’s real. He is a cat. This is how you saw him. A pretty little kitty with full, soft fur and an even fluffier tail to accompany him with.

He saw you approach in the mirror and he knew what was coming. He was getting picked up again, right? Okay, let's get it over with.

“Do you recognise yourself in the mirror?”, you wondered out loud. Mh duh, obviously. Caleb watched you stretching your back. A crack sounded through the bathroom and you let out a groan. Yo, you good there?

In these few seconds you sounded and looked a lot older than you were and Caleb blamed the exhaustion you must feel yourself. The spirit you showed earlier in trying to catch him must have drained all your energy you had left and Caleb respected you a bit for that. Fighting for what you assumed your responsibility. He let out a small laugh inwardly. Amused by his own actions and letting you see what normally was reserved for only one person.

“Alright, I leave you alone now, my brave fighter”, you smiled tiredly at him. “Gotta make some food.”

Huh? Okay...then...? Thanks?

Caleb inspected him for a few minutes more. Baffled and astonished with his new body. Would he become human again? Could he become human in this world? Would he only return to normal when he went back? How could he go back? Would you even know? You seemed ordinary. Living a simple life with a small reprieve in a game he was unfortunate to appear in.

He sighed and patted after you.

The rest of the evening flew past rather uneventful. Caleb thanked the gods that you didn’t have cat food immediately at home. Otherwise he would have started the next fight. Instead you served him some grinded beef with an egg in it. Raw, might he add but he chose against it to get angry at it. For you he was a cat. For now, he would let you believe it as well. But as soon as tomorrow came his plan would start.

First he would test out if he still got his evol in this world. If he could manage that, he could show you how he manipulated certain things and that would be enough to understand that he was no simple cat or a cat at all for that matter. If he didn’t have his evol? Well, then he needed to find another way. No more blindly tapping on tablets and charade games. Clear and no misunderstandings for you. Caleb would make it crystal clear that he was himself.

Something that did happen that evening that blew the wind out of his sails was, that you decided actually, for a fact, for real, to name him…Caleb.

“I mean, you do have his eyes, you know?”, you explained your reasoning. “And if and when I find your owners you get your old name back anyway. It’s not like you will get used to it, right buddy?”

Count him flabberghasted, in utter disbelief. Didn’t you earlier in the evening say yourself, that this would be an awful idea? That you would have to be very lonely to be even considering that? Don’t lie to him. He remembers word for word.

“Nobody would know that it comes from a otome game”, you rambled on. “And it’s not like you would mind.”

Does he? Caleb was conflicted. Yes, no, maybe? On one hand, yes it’s his name. The name he got. The one he was born with, and on the other hand? You didn’t see that name as anything more than from a character you liked. In the end, he accepted your name choice. One step at the time, right? He got the name down, now he needed everything else.

The whole funny side with this rather ridiculous turn of your both lives was:

You both needed each other, you just don’t know it yet.

tag list: @bookworrm1999 ; @luna-looniesblog ; @dummiebunny @roscpctals99 ; @mcdepressed290

~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*

Hey and welcome back to this story. I hope you enjoyed yourself. Any feedback is always appriciated, as long as it's constructive.

Thank you, beautiful soul for reading <3

#caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace #reader x caleb #caleb x reader #love and deepspace fluff

249 notes · View notes

northopalshore · 1 month ago

Text

Chiron in the

Midheaven persona chart

The midheaven persona chart is the extension of your natal midheaven placement. Chiron here tells you what is most criticized about you in terms of your public image or professional reputation & what about your public image/career that hurts you the most. Everything here only applies to the MC persona chart. Also shows the healing presence you may carry. Criticism is not always true to your own intentions or nature, but rather correspondent to how you behave in other people's eyes.

Northopalshores' Masterlist| MC persona chart | Union persona chart

Personal observations, do not repost on other platforms without consent ʕ⁠ ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔฅ

°0 criticized for being ignorant, having a lack of depth or maturity, enhancing whichever house or sign it's in

In retrograde the problem may often stem from something that you personally did or are insecure about whether you are aware or not. However, I haven't seen much consistent results or differences between retrogrades & non retrogrades. So just take the original meaning. It's just that I know someone will ask about it at some point so I'll write it here to avoid that.

signs, degrees & houses

⚷ Aries (°1,°13,°25) | 1st House

You could be judged for being rude, abrasive, agressive, self centered, egotistical, smug, being a bully or doing things in a brash and inharmonious way (not thinking of other people you may hurt or the consequences of your actions beyond where it's or what is happening). People could say that you lack actual depth or maturity and just doing something for your own benefit (like pushing your brand or agenda, or interest onto other people). People may also find you to be a one trick pony or someone that can't actually do more than that one thing they cling onto desperately.

Ex: Ryan Reynolds has Chiron in Aries °4 Cancer in the 3rd house. Honestly, he has similar placements to Blake which I'll elaborate further as one of the examples. Both of them push their relationship to the frontline a lot & just pushing their brand more than their actual artistic talents. Going for that familiar comedic style that people are now used to expecting from them.

⚷ Taurus (°2,°14,°26) | 2nd House

People are most likely to critique your spending habits, or your lavish lifestyle. People may think of you as vain and overly materialistic to the point that you are out of touch with reality (insensitive to the world or people around you). Having business ethics that are questionable or self-centered. Your beauty standards may also be something that people judge you for; saying that you highlight unrealistic expectations surrounding beauty and live solely to reach or preach it by existing and being proud of yourself (maybe looking down on others as well because of it). Conversely, beauty standards might be the exact thing that causes you pain throughout your career. Either way it's often related to money, business, feminity, beauty or brands.

⚷ Gemini (°3,°15,°27) | 3rd House

You may be critiqued for being self centered, acting like a know-it-all, being mean or having sharp comments, making jokes that do not fit the situation (insensitive). People will judge you for your voice and your beliefs, your writing and your skills questioning your overall capabilities & what you know. You could be criticized for public statements or your claims and rights as well. You may be afraid that people will dig too much into the words that you say or use them against you at some point. You may be rather insecure about your thoughts and perspectives at times as well.

Ex: Lana Del Rey has Chiron retrograde in Gemini ° 14 Taurus. I remember reading people's opinions on public forums about her earlier performances saying she wasn't particularly a remarkable singer. Also there was that thing about her vocalizing other people's opinions about her songs and aesthetics seemingly romanticizing ab*se and narcotics (unhealthy relationships, grooming yk the works) then her pointing out other female artists songs that depict cheating & etc. However, it's undeniable how impactful her aesthetic & music has been in the industry. Many of her fans resonate deeply with both those aspects of her.

⚷ Cancer (°4,°16,°28) | 4th House

Your career may be influenced by your familial relationships, either from accusations of nepotism or getting everything easily due to your close relationships and being related to someone who already had some sort of leverage. People may say that you are heartless to some degree (or on the opposite end; too attached or have attachment issues). Also, your home life may take a jab due to your public image or desire to be someone important (spending more time at work or polishing your image compared to being with your family). You may have had to struggle with your work and public image much earlier than others (working or being exposed to the public life from an early age).

Ex: Beyoncé ( natal Aries rising) has Chiron retrograde in Taurus °18 Virgo in the 4th house. Her dad was her manager and was the one that helped search for record deals (with Girls Tyme aka Destiny's Child) which people say explain the bias around her when she was in the group. Her luxurious lifestyle & crazy work ethic tend to hurt both her (health wise) and people around her (she's known to overwork & underpay her employees). Now, she literally works with her husband & children too. I can't say I know what her home life is like but it's not easy that's for sure. Plus, that means she has been working her ass off ever since childhood.

⚷ Leo (°5,°17,°29) | 5th House

People may criticize you for your expressive or dramatic nature or overly positive personality. People may think you crave attention & gloss over things too often (making light of serious matters as well). People may dislike how quickly you gain attention or how everything is a game or entertainment for you. People questioning why others like you so much. You could be called unserious as well. People may dislike how loud or how much of an oversharer you are which could contribute to people thinking you are insufferable. Your flighty love life & overtly sexual energy could be a topic of interesting amongst them too ( being a topic to critique you for). It may be difficult for you to share things about yourself or feel like you have to act more interesting than you really are to compensate for how boring people may find you without that extra layer or "fun".

Ex: Cardi B, Lisa, Miley Cyrus & Gypsy Rose all have Leo influences with their MC PC Chiron. All four of them were criticized for being too expressive or dramatic and questioned their skyrocketing (at the time they gained that popularity in the first place) popularity. Also, their sexuality has been remarked as "too much" from fans and haters alike.

⚷ Virgo (°6,°18) | 6th House

Your lifestyle, your work ethic, almost everything about you here is put to the test. This placement honestly makes people criticize you from the things you do, food you eat, your attitude, your environment, your talents, how you work, your inspirations; everything seems to be judged in one way or another. It's like one they've exhausted one issue they're on to the next thing about you that either rubs them the wrong way or is literally problematic. Alternatively, you could feel like what you do is never enough and are your own worst critic . People may also find healing or comfort through your work itself.

⚷ Libra (°7,°19) | 7th House

Your looks, partnerships, your spouse, your lovers, are usually what causes your public image to go under public skepticism and judgement. People may questions you due to your connections or down play your efforts due to your "upper hand", especially if you are connected to anyone important or significant in whatever context that your public image applies to (whether work, or what people around your neighborhood says about you). People may think that what you have is unfair or maybe compare you with your partner & their lives or history seeing you as either lackluster or bland in comparison (or vice versa). People may also find you shallow or superficial.

⚷ Scorpio (°8,°20) | 8th House

People may call you a manipulative person, with a lack of morality or distain towards other people. A liar, trauma dumper, or an overall toxic person. People may find you to be contradicting (which leads to distrust). Some people may over sexualize you as well or think that part of you is "too much" or unbearable. People may hate your guts for no reason too (but it's likely out of jealousy). Any changes surrounding your career may also be scrutinized saying that you "change for the worst". People's obsession with you or the constant invasion of your privacy may be an awful backflash following your career or public image. You may be paranoid that someone somewhere is just watching your every move, just judging you (and they likely are). People's attachment to you and strong feelings (whether positive or negative) is what hurts your image the most depending on other placements. Also, people may criticize you for not having a consistent identity or public presence. People just expect too much from you.

⚷ Sagittarius (°9,°21) | 9th House

You could receive hate or backlash for cultural appropriation, r*cism, personal beliefs or world view & philosophy, political views, and even your unconventional way of life. Your lack of morality or views surrounding activism may also fall under public scrutiny. You may be seen as a "bad influence" to a lot of conservative people. Conversely, you yourself may be awfully rigid or and conservative, pushing your beliefs onto other people that do not necessarily agree with your ideals. People may say your are a one note character too either doing too much or too little to prove yourself. People may say you are rather "tone deaf" with your opinions. People may also call you ungrateful & lazy. People's opinions and thoughts about you hurt deeply. You may hold a lot of your thoughts, act ignorant or downplay yourself due to that.

Ex: Blake Lively has Chiron° 25 conjunct Venus°21 & Groom°21 in Gemini in the 10th house. She is definitely a fitting controversial figure. She is criticized for a lot of things, from being a bully to being fake and even r*cist (because they literally got married at a plantation amongst all things). Is she just trying to be her Gossip Girl character or was she not acting when she played Serena. She also seems to imitate her husband's humor and brings him up numerous times like it's a required statement. There's honestly a lot to say about her but I won't elaborate further.

Brigitte Bardot has Chiron in Taurus ° 9 Sagittarius in the 2nd house & Jennie has Chiron in Libra °16 Cancer the 9th house. Both are criticized for their "I don't care" attitude, their mentality, their dismissive or laziness, expensive taste and relationships. Jennie also started being perceived (or working in the industry or something relative to it from a young age) and thus has gone through much pain or insecurities at an early age.

⚷ Capricorn (°10,°22) | 10th House

Criticism often comes from people with a higher status than you like your employer or a senior executive at work, someone that has more experience than you or even just people that assume they have authority over you. You could be criticized for your work ethic the most or even how people view you or you view yourself. You may get criticized because people think other people deserve what you have or your position more than you even if you did work yourself up to where you are /will be in the future. Your work itself is also something that may go through a lot of backlash. Also, people may think of your brand or personality as something made (manufactured) to be marketable and not a reflection of who you are.

⚷ Aquarius (°11,°23) | 11th House

You may be criticized for favoritism, accusations of having"main character complex", being unresponsive to (shutting out) other people outside of your circle or your world, being the noticable odd person out. Thinking too highly of yourself or being the spotlight stealer. People may also criticize you for either being overly altruistic (up your own ass) or oppositely; being incredibly dismissive about other people in your community. This hate may come from peers or "friends" and most of all netizens if your job or public life involves the internet. It may be hard for you to share what you like because of how "out there" your ideas can be fearing that no one will understand where you're coming from. In some cases your peers may be your worst enemies (especially if Chiron is in the 11th house).

Ex: Michael Jackson has Chiron in Aquarius °18 Virgo in the 7th house. His career has effected his entire life, from his childhood to his relationships and even his personal actions. He was nicknamed Wacko Jacko for his capricious and strange personality.

⚷ Pisces (°12,°24) | 12th House

You may be criticized for playing victim or acting/being oblivious to certain things. Lack of transparency, leniency. For some, even citizenship may be questionable. Being manipulative, and fishing for pity or willingly letting go of control over yourself for some reason. You may also be under the control of people that may effect your public image. People may not understand your vision or your true intentions, making you feel discouraged or even invisible to a greater audience. You may be overshadowed by the work of people around you for example. People may also view you as someone that's easy to walkover due to that feeling of incompetence you hold.

Ex: Taylor Swift has Chiron in Cancer °24 Pisces in the 10th house. She's most criticized for playing victim & standing by her altruistic tendencies. This was most prominently showcased during the Kanye incident & the "Snake" backlash. Man, that was wild. Also, she was literally interrupted by Kanye because he thought she didn't deserve her VMA award.

Aspects (Conjunctions only)

⚷ Chiron conjunct 11th house

People may criticize you for your choice of friendships or the people you choose to surround yourself with. Your friends themselves may be the issue at times.

Ex Taylor Swift's Chiron conjuncts her 11th house. She gain quite a lot of backlash for her "Squad" as people thought it had a lot to do with exclusivity & elitism (since everyone in it was quite famous and influential at the time). Also, it's notable that most her friends had controversy of their own at one point or another (then or in the future). Blake being one of those friends. She is also deeply involved with her friends however, providing them a safe place to share & heal with her and vice versa like her friendship with Selena Gomez.

⚷ Chiron conjunct Descendant

People may call you a homewrecker (especially if Chiron is not in the 7th house, just conjuncting it), or be criticized for your choice of partners (whether romantic, platonic or business related). Your connections and transaction based relationshipa tend to rub people the wrong way (like how you manage it for example will also be dissected).

⚷ Chiron conjunct Briede (19029) or Groom (5129)

Being criticized in relation to your partner. You may feel less noticable compared to your partner or vice versa, people could say that you don't deserve to be their partner or just get criticized for being with them. Either that or it's you as a partner (people may think you are an inadequate as a marriage partner).

⚷ Chiron conjunct North Node

You are criticized for your vision, your ideals and what you believe in the most. People may think that you change too drastically or that you were "better before the change". People may find you too righteous or self entitled as well.

⚷ Chiron conjunct Industria (389)

You will be criticized heavily for your work and what you choose to do professionally. However, it may also be an indicator of having a career that is tiring but at the same time very healing (to both you and other people). Not necessarily related to doctors, could be artist or holistic healers too.

⚷ Chiron conjunct Sun

Scrutiny towards your personality, your ego or your self assertivenes, literally just how you present yourself to others (that may or may not "steamroll" other people). Some may find your optimism or personality to be rather appealing and comforting, while others think of you as inadequate. You may work 2x as hard just to prove yourself worthy.

⚷ Chiron conjunct Moon

Being judged for the way that you feel or portray your emotions. People not understanding your feelings and actions. People may call you immature too. However, those that vibe with you will be deeply attached due to your relatability and aptness at connecting or trauma bonding with other people. It's easy for you to get too attached to something even if it doesn't mean much in hindsight; your genuine feelings may be put to the test.

⚷ Chiron conjunct Mercury

They way you speak or sing or write is very healing to other people, however you may be criticized by the same thing many people may like about that part of you. You may hesitate to talk to share your thoughts because of that. Staying silent at times may be more fruitful in your opinion.

⚷ Chiron conjunct Mars

People may crutize you for your energy (whether the abundance or lack thereof). You may seem "lazy" or "doing too much" depending on other placements. You may feel like you have to doore than other people to prove yourself.

Ex: Wonyoung has this placement, people often says she does too much compared to the rest of the members or literally wherever she is.

⚷ Chiron conjunct Venus

People may condemn you for your love life or for being with your partner/lover, your creativity and your talents. Judging your looks, beauty & aesthetics as well (especially if you have or will go(ne) through some cosmetic procedures). Though people might also say that you "lack beauty" or are not on the level that people in your place would otherwise have based on their assumptions. People that connect with you however, feel that you are a valuable soul that's love transcends almost anything. They may also be deeply attached to your love life or story. You tend to have a "hurt maiden" type of beauty or always look scared on unsure. Your looks or love life may suffer due to your career.

⚷ Chiron conjunct Neptune

People may call you delusional or manipulative. Though people that trust you will see you as someone who is able to foresee more than most people can, seeing you as a healer and genius of sorts when it comes to your talents, beliefs and "life navigation system". Also, you may be rather inconsistent with your presence (hard to get to and find, disappearing more often than being present). Being out of touch with people. Your art is healing, but often receives judgement by people.

⚷ Chiron conjunct Pluto & Saturn

Judged for putting your beliefs or best interest first, for assuming much about yourself or others. People may also dislike you for being a "wet towel" i.e being the person to bring other people to their senses or introduce controversial ideas. People that connect with you will see you inner power and potential to bring light to the darkness; having a greater purpose to push past the karma or hurt. You get a lot of hate just for being there (where public image/career is most relevant to you).

⚷ Eros conjunct Chiron

You may be judged for your sex life or your sex appeal. People may call you a ... hussie or indecent person when it comes to the body and sexuality. People that connect with you will find your energy compelling and even motivational. You may have the ability to heal wounds surrounding s*x or past dreams/desires.

˚₊‧꒰ა paid readings available ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Arrivederci ♡, thanks for reading. Hope this helps! (support?)

@northopalshore

#chiron #Chiron in the midheaven persona chart #midheaven persona chart #midheaven persona chart observations #mc persona chart #mc pc #astrology blog #astrology observations #astrology notes #astro notes #astro observations #astrology content #astrology #astrology community #astrology ramblings

322 notes · View notes